GUITAR
-
Seán Street (U.K.)
Then you smiled and handed the guitar to me,
and I can see to this very day the light
over the strings, sun splash where it’s always been,
in the green museum of myself I’ve built
to keep safe the spilt remnants I still curate,
an archive, now it’s late, against these layers
of time.
We were players together, tuning,
staying tuned, communing with the artefact.
But It’s not objects, it’s the air that matters,
light that shatters into colour, harmonics.
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