when the lights go out

an erasure of “Pointed Roofs” by Dorothy Richardson

she thought of dreadful people,

swollen until she could not see

whether they were lines or spaces.

her fingers,

so weak,

unexpectedly stiffened like sticks at the ends of

trembling wrists and hands.

she heard nothing.

but then the piano

across the hearthrug,

clear red hot mass on blue and cream tiles.

the room seemed full of the forgotten,

unrecognizable fear.

her heart trembling and

burning,

alternately thumping with stiff fingers,

notes fumbled and slurred soundlessly.

she had hoped each time

she was alone.

but she could not rid her nervousness

when

the notes laughed and thrilled out into the air

behind the piano.

Reference:

Richardson, Dorothy. Pointed Roofs: Pilgrimage, Volume 1. A. A. Knopf, 1919. Project Gutenburg, www.gutenberg.org/files/3019/3019-h/3019-h.htm