St Paul's Academy: Claire Whitelaw

 

 

My Flute.

Daylight.
She opens my box, and pieces me together.
She runs her fingers along my long, silver body.
Tap. Tap.
I begin to sing.
I race up and down the scales,
I hop around the arpeggios.
My voice dances around the music.
She begins to tire out.
I no longer sing.
She takes me apart again
And lays me in my box,
Click.
The lid shuts,
Darkness.


by Claire Whitelaw