“Is anyone listening?”

My hands find their way onto the spaces between the piano keys. Even when the amnesia takes me over, I know, / I will still remember music. / I can’t picture where the notes laid on the lines, but I know every feeling in my fingers, where they seek to belong. I will still remember music. / The sight of a morning sun was ten million lifetimes ago, but not this, not music. I can remember. / The creature at the piano bench does not seem to control the hands beneath, but / I will remember. / I can still remember. /

Is anyone listening? Come nightfall, will anyone know that this, this music, this evolution of sound, happened? I will still remember. / What am I once this song is over? I want to remember. / Don’t I deserve some happiness? I can remember. I will remember. / Has anyone ever been listening? I don’t want to forget this. /

I will remember. / I will remember. / I can remember. / I will remember. / I will

Writing and photography by Hazel J. Hall.
Previously published by Coffin Bell Journal.