I have a pianist’s hands – long fingers – straight wrists – and a stretch that spans two notes above the octave

a seer once held my hand and foretold three consuming loves, and none would remain by my side –

after this last, I consider myself consumed –

funny how the life line moves on strong and unbroken – a pity

if there were a split, I might just jump the tracks and begin again elsewhere

with pianist’s hands – as yet unconsumed


  1. i’m going to plug in the old telecaster, and play a bit of harp, and read some more of your fine words and listen to your tunes which I dig 🙂 and have another beer, oops



  2. This is a delicate and moving poem Sarah. I like the trajectory ending, as brave souls always do, on a note of eternal optimism. Pianist’s hands make an ideal motif for these lines too.



  3. Sarah, I am absolutely loving it. Such poems could make me jealous if I wouldn’t be so happy reading it.

    (personally – I would consider dropping the last line completely and reworking/rewording line 5 – the rest, to me, is just perfect)



    1. thanks for the feedback, Guy…. anything I post under “Poet’s Journal” is either a snippet or a work in process that may or may not grow up to be full-fledged poems 🙂 I like your suggestions – if I decide to rework this to become an actual finished piece, I’ll definitely keep them in mind



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