Nachiah

No longer does a piano sit in the front room, waiting for someone to eagerly play its keys. No longer does a piano sit in the great room, electric and waiting for new ideas to tap. No, no longer have I a piano of any sort, except my computer keyboard at hand. And no longer is it notes that I play, but letters, words, and pixels in a fantastic display. No longer do I play music, but I play poetry, the music influencing me playing in my right ear. No, no longer a piano with strings and hammers, vibrations and the physics of sound. The music in my heart, my mind, my body as my feet tap the rhythm now expressed as bl