Vision

I saw you in a dream
sitting at the piano
you wore a fedora
and your red hair was like falling flames from underneath that lucky hat.

You sang into a microphone
and I wept to hear your voice
but you did not sing of pain
(though you played it).

the room was still as I stared
Like a creep
or a lost puppy
depending on your mood
I was in dark
gazing at the light.

play on I say
let the keys call their hammers
and let them fall upon the strings
as each word you sing into the mic
gives birth another dream.