Safely Hidden

The act of living

The reliving

Softly an ending 

A mournful sonata

Time paused

Broken strings

This one snapped during practice

This one? 

I can’t remember why this string died

I hold on 
To broken things

Safe in its hiding place

My white embroidered cardigan

A gift once best-loved

Now out of vogue

Its pockets 
Filled with broken violin strings