Rich mahogany like the hair in your eyes,
The bow I now grasp fits like your hand in mine.
I blow off dust flaking on the bridge,
It’s more than a memory of you that I want.
Against my shoulder where you once leaned
Is now your viola to conquer the pain.
My fingers on strings last pressed long ago
Are brought back to life to bring back your own.
Bow to those strings, they echo your laughter,
The joy in your voice and your shining smile.
The sun looms above me and reflects on the wood
To haunt me with your beloved meaningful grin.
Your viola is still in tune like my memories of you
As Pachelbel Canon spills from the pit of my heart
And runs through my fingers to flow through the strings.
I play a D major, your favorite- because it has two sharps,
You said “one for me and one for you is just right for us”
But now I’ve lost you and I’m left with those sharps
So I take your viola and I play on my own.