the ridges of my nail
pluck the taut thread of nylon
and the callous nub of my thumb
the tightly wound brass

my reach isn't long
dexterity; poor
but each note is clear and perfect
the walls, the ceiling cry for more

a complex cooperation
the harmonics making love
a bend, a kiss, salvation
flowing from hands above

ivory with onyx inlay
gold leafed on the hollowed brown
rosewood is spotted pearl
color the air with it's honey sound

10/28/2005

Posted on 10/29/2005
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