My Blog

I strummed something i do not understand

   and thought it was the best tune i have ever played

My finger, bleeding, hands trembling like my mind

I failed to grasp the memories displayed

something familiar

like the roses’ red petals falling from a May’s parade

Or the swirling of wine in glass

like the washed-out crepe paper

fading red tints from the falling rain

like your red umbrella turning

as you walked out on me

like my guitar’s song in wailing

crying out your name

           In human’s most destitute condition

           my whispers, accompanied by a sonatina

          played in a spanish guitar

          is the only hand on my shoulder