I keep hearing sorrow
in the strings,
their anguished melodies
flying from fingers
attached to hands
belonging to hearts
stretched out
in the agony
of music played
for deaf ears.
These mourning tunes
apply the balm of memory
and remind me of songs
I’ve never heard
and riffs I’ve never watched you play.
I listen anyway
for your voice
among the harmonies
between lead and rhythm,
and I wait
because one day I’ll stumble
and my words
will answer your song.


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