A December night

Originally published in Pluvia Literary Magazine, Issue III (July 2022). A video of me reading this poem can be found here, performed in the blazing Saigon August.

Obsidian sky, Pacific cold snaps

Glaze backyard grass and graze frontyard glass.

Nightlamp’s soft glow, fireplace roars,

I slide my fingertips across the keyboard, lingering on the ivory tabs.

 

Yet, the keyboards are jammed, and melodies are entangled

Like laugher trapped in clenched teeth as the cold pricks.

So I turn to A minor staccato, then accelerando

A tribute to crystalline birches and snowy rail tracks.

 

The notes, joining hands together

Fly from their long-captivated residence, the barred staffs,

And swing up and down to dance away the night

Along with the flurries outside.

 

Forte notes following horse footprints in the sunset

become decrescendo when reaching snow-clad hamlets with smoking chimneys.

Sharps and flats mingle exquisitely

as snow and darkness entwine, crafting a rich harmony.

 

Time seems to no longer exist

when you play piano on a December night.