Rain falls over the remains of sordid dreams.
A shadow dims over a doorway,
left long forsaken.
Chill breath rises up from the mist
and drifts to the graveyard of the sky.
A persistent knocking,
rankles the fine dust and cobwebs.
A wooden skeleton with bits of treated guts,
cocks open his single sand encrusted eye
and begins to stir.
He hasn’t been awake
In his youth,
he was a prodigy’s passion,
but after the great sweep,
he was abandoned in favor of other things.
A cello case covered in neglect,
is swept over by a wane hand.
It is extricated from
the hidden attic’s debris
and brought out into the light.
In the clouds,
the coffin begins to shake.
The occupant had thought
it would rot into nothing in this silent prison,
but maybe he was mistaken?
Maybe that hole would soon be expunged.
The hollow hole left in his chest,
caused by abandonment had long been filled
by long-legged spiders carcasses.
In life they had mocked him,
in death, their fading words
were his only companions.
the case displays
a forlorn instrument;
a cello made sad by years of neglect.
But it might still salvageable.
Someday it might yet, play again.