returning, rebuilding

squeaky strings
crooked bow
awkward stance
forgotten notes
simple tune
unpleasant tone
soulless sound
playing slow

...

but remember
how her eyes did shine
as she swayed in time
feeling deeply each line
oh,
how her heart had danced
floating through the music
smooth and free
in a dreamland symphony

...

my violin beckons
ever softly
although unpolished
dark wood gathering dust
my skills coated with rust
even so
she calls me home
dull as I've become
it's time to pick her up again
and begin sharpening
from here