Upon the Occasion of Seeing My Son’s Basque-Born Guitar

Azure guitar shimmers,
And flamenco dancers whirl:
They careen inside, crying for escape,
Kicking long, strong legs against the wood for freedom.
A band of importunate strings responds,
The instrument’s black hole releases its magic;
Pierces our hearts like the sadness of crystal waves,
And opens up sparkling blue eternity.

Copyright Cindy C Lange 2019

One thought on “Upon the Occasion of Seeing My Son’s Basque-Born Guitar

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