a beam of light
falls lazily down through plumes
of age and sweet dust

giving perfection to antique
floorboards and old oak pieces

piano
ivory keys
and still it will break,
crumbling by the old burden of
forces we cannot, never will control

the air layers itself after
years of calm solitude, but

there is nothing better
than the scent of time

07/20/2005

Posted on 07/21/2005
Copyright © 2025 Corey Lockaby