music

[j88ls]

sitting alone in my kitchen
a slow fan sweeping in the cool air
listening to the music of Charles Aznavour
my head is filled with a sweet unbearable melancholy
memories of days lived in the past
when this music was the language of my love
bitter tears well in my eyes
as I think of the past and his betrayal
of love that grew slowly from a bud to a glorious flower
that filled our lives with the laughter of happy children
that was ripped carelessly from its stem
and trampled underfoot in his greed and selfishness
and left to decay in the ruins of our marriage
why is it music with all its beauty
that most often brings these unbidden tears
with memories of the days we lived together
and the shared music of our past