The keys are soft, the notes unwind,
A kind of snow within the mind.
No storm can match the sound he sends—
A sorrow that both wounds and mends.
From A Poem A Day: All Continental Europe


The keys are soft, the notes unwind,
A kind of snow within the mind.
No storm can match the sound he sends—
A sorrow that both wounds and mends.
From A Poem A Day: All Continental Europe

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