Silent Music

She wears headphones as she plays Chopin in the winter light. Singing random notes, she sways in and out of the shadow while night settles. The keys she presses make a soft clack, the bench creaks when her weight shifts, golden hair falls across her shoulders, and the sustain pedal clicks. This is the melody I know so well, her body finding harmony in the give and take of motion, her lyric grace of gesture measured against a slow fall of darkness. Now stillness descends to signal the end of her silent music.