Autumn’s Passing: Another Year, Another Melody

It’s blissful tickling the long, elegant, ebony and ivory keys again with her fingers. Time passes hurriedly. They always told her it would – go by fast that is. Autumn approaches, September. Another birthday. At seven, one year equaled a seventh of her life. Now one year is a single note, and her composition expands with increasingly intricate, complex melodies.

Fugue-like, new voices emerge – harmonizing – each portrays variations of the passing year. Major, minor. Black, white. The melodies swirl around me. Leaves fall. Suspended between Time’s passing, and the Music: minutes tick by, my fingers dance on. Another year. Another melody.