Nocturne in the Mist

In midnight mist a single note finds breath, A shadowed handsign writes its slow arpeggio; Behind the keys, a pale moon circles death, And blue becomes a chapel, dim and mellow. The hall is void, yet listening feels so near, As fog unspools like velvet on the floor; Each pause is light, each chord a held-back tear, And silence closes softly, evermore.