Acoustic Guitar

I first bought one

for my seven year old son

it cost one hundred and ten dollars;

Dimitri, his Russian teacher

said, it’s perfect for his age. At eleven, he went to Vince, who taught him how to love the guitar

like only musicians can.

I no longer said,

practice your guitar.

When he held his first electric guitar,

he still

played the artful acoustic

the breaking strings

a new loyal friend

that never lets you down

it lifts your burnt senses

it brings you mythological joy,

it takes you to geographical locations

you have never laid tired eyes on before

When my son fell asleep

hugging his guitar

I knew all those exhausting lessons

throughout the busy years

were worth it all

when I first listened to his songs

I knew his voice

before I heard it.

There is no end to the sound of broken strings,

only beginnings.

For @fallspoetry on Instagram

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