|
Guitar
Catriona Yule
Your heavenly fingers strut
across a fret,
your arm cradling a bird
that will sing like an angel.
You stroke him and stroke him
and he chirrups like the wind.
Like the wind in your soul
in the breeze of the night,
like the breath on a rose
in the still of the garden,
like the beat of your heart
as you play that final chord.
|