Midnight Measure

A poem and musical piece

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Experience - Ludovico Einaudi

There’s something in Ludovico Einaudi’s Experience that mirrors this moment, the quiet repetition, then the build, then the lift.

A body remembering what it once was.

I had it on repeat when writing this, I’d encourage you to spend a moment with it yourself!

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Midnight Measure

Dust upon the thick veneer,
light slices the crowning heads,
murmurs trickle down the rows
with an anxious midnight flow.
The side curtain draws a hush,
rubber rolls across the boards,
a creak that long held applause.

His knees tire, always bent,
muscles long forget their length.
A curved spine and skin hang low,
shoulders whittled to a rounded bow.

Pressed against his frail friend,
yellow hands and faded ivory blend.
Breath rasps at heavy memories;
the crowd softens at the worn couple,
a giant shrivelling over his fame.

But then his fingers —
his fingers dance upon the keys,
eyes ignite the time machines,
and as his legs melt to the seat
his frame swells with the beat.