A Lunch Break Lost in Mona Lisa’s Smile
I sit in the Macy’s Plaza. A man is paid to play the Grand Piano.
Without the words, the song shapes waft over me.
There are a dozen people on their lunch breaks.
We sit, scattered pigeons, devouring the music notes like crumbs.
The piano man stops betweens songs, looks around.
I stop breathing to fill the wasted minutes.
My clap’s not heard inside the hollow cake, the carpeted mall,
Over decorated with business suits. He starts a new song.
The ceiling is made of glass. I concentrate on details.
I close my eyes. Perhaps, love is possible.
-----
critique? criticism? What lines are not working for you?
1 comment:
I like that you are writing, and I also like that I get to read it. Thank you!
Since you asked for it:
I really like the piano man. I've definately seen those guys. And I like that the business people on lunch are pigeons.
I don't know what "a hollow cake" is. And I didn't expect the last line. Maybe you meant it to be that way.
PS - keep writing. I don't think you forgot how.
Post a Comment