Your Guitar

I’m writing this
On your guitar
Now that you’re gone
Now that you can’t

The wood still holds
that incense smell
My fingers fall
Where your hands fell

Your finger grease
Still on the frets
In all this world
That’s all that’s left
Of my brother
My brother
My brother

I’m playing this
On the guitar
You used to play
In my room
You on the chair
Me on my bed
We’d chase the muse
Wherever she led

We’d strike a chord
Our eyes would shine
Our souls’d reach out
And intertwine
And the sound we made
The songs we sung
They didn’t sound
Like anyone
But only soul,
Trembling there
Between us both
Hanging in the air

Those moments lost
Like tears in rain
My own tears fall
Upon the grain
Of your guitar

*

I touched the box
They put you in
I said goodbye
To all bickering
The old reserve
Now burned to dust
And all that’s left
Is only love

I’m playing this
Tears in my eyes
To hold you here
With me awhile
The strings respond
The wood vibrates
The notes ring out
And resonate
Against my chest
A living thing
The ghost of you
Still here, dancing
Your memory
Still floating round
It comes to me
In the sound
Of your guitar

*

What else is left?
What have I missed?
Your hunger for
Transcendent bliss
The simple goodness
Of your heart
That saw each day
As a brand new start

I hope it found
A little peace
As you went on
Ahead of me
For it’s my turn next
Then I’ll be gone
And all that’s left
Will be this song
From your guitar