And as I stand here,
Watching fingers move upon the strings,
Sounds fill the room and remind me of
A soft red cushion,
A dark auditorium.

And I remember the sound of feet tapping,
Intermittent clapping.
Round noises and interjected coughs.

Young wandering minds
Are frightened little rabbits
Feet pitter-pattering, changing direction
In the blink of a swollen eye.

Seeking refuge,
Heart beating like a pounding drum.
Breathing fast,
But slower with each passing exhale.

Clarity
Is searched for
With no avail.

The soft sliding,
The plucked notes,
Bring me back.
And my seach goes on.