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Arthur Leung – Ⅱ

Playing a Chopin Mazurka


You make a glowing breath
on each final beat,
a dance that can’t be danced,

clap the A-flat
like a bold, surprise kiss:
your blacks and whites indulge

in a Polish folk tune,
triplets of city pace,
the dotted rhythm of dreams.

You summon routine flight,
minute excitements –
the last, contented strike

of the computer’s return key
in every office task,
or the impatient carhorn

in every round of the traffic
light about to turn red –
before the landing of home.

Piano, you dance a dance
of old and modern times,
of trivialities,

that wishful breath, hum
of recurring homesickness –
the music’s in love with you.