With Guitar in Hand

 

With Guitar in Hand

for Stephanie

With guitar in hand I observe the green beetles bumbling about,
the way they careen and crash and flail aimlessly, but to a purpose.

Sometimes I attempt one note, only to strike another, or plucking
three strings simultaneously, focus on the discordant one,

which is, of course, me. How do we live the right song?
Which casual arrangement sends us plummeting to the grass,

hearts racing? I recall thinking “this cannot be,” yet could not,
would not, turn away. I bang out a minor seventh, sing a few

words, adjust my arthritic grip. Yesterday I couldn’t form
the chord shapes I desired. Today the hands float along the

fretboard, unimpeded. I wish you were here. I wish
I could shift time signatures with neurotransmissions,

that we were somewhere else, out of the way, alone
but for birds chirping in the branches by the window.

I wish my flawed tunes could merge with moonlight
and compose pearlescent pieces, and that you would

sing them to me from the threshold of our shared lives. I want
everything, but cherish what we can hold in these wondrous

times. I think of your hair and eyes, how my heart
flutters to the floor and refuses to rise until your smile

unwraps the day’s gift to me, defying Newton’s third law,
offering unheard chords. I listen to your silences, as I do

your words, knowing the value of each. Gazing at your
photo, I speak your name, set down the guitar. Make music.

 

 

“With Guitar in Hand” was originally published in the print anthology Epiphanies and Late Realizations of Love in February 2019.

 

 

25 thoughts on “With Guitar in Hand

  1. There is a smudge on my laptop screen that made the line read: “I wish I could ‘shit’ time signatures with neurotransmissions…”!

    Trust me. I too wish I could shit time signatures, although I am so obsessed with playing jazz drums in 3/4 or 5/4, you could argue that I display a high degree of anal retentiveness…

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Beautiful, romantic, a testament to patience waiting for what your heart knows is right …
    I went back and reread (several times!) this bit: Yesterday I couldn’t form / the chord shapes I desired. Today the hands float along the / fretboard, unimpeded.
    Getting two lives “shaped” to fit together is no small challenge … wonderful that you’ve reached the unimpeded stage. Let the music flow!

    Liked by 1 person

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