Old Joe

 

he fills

the underpass with music

gnarled hands coaxing notes

from a battered guitar

 

sometimes

he plays to please the crowd

Free Bird or Smoke on the Water

but mostly he just jams

 

letting his fingers

dance across the frets

letting the music flow

into him and through him

 

every evening

as he walks back to the bridge

he passes the guitar shop

with the Gibson Firebird in the window

 

spotlights pick out

liquid swirls in black and red

frozen beneath a layer of lacquer

as thick as a ten pence piece

 

Joe presses

his palm against the window

and whistles softly

 

the Firebird sits mute

tethered by a security leash

caged behind a window grille

 

while Joe’s old strings

are free to sing

 

(C) Helen Lewis 2011

Advertisements

Leave a reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: