adventures in dysthymia

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Strings, a poem

STRINGS

All the guitar strings
do not have to be changed
in Spring, but like the green
sprouts in the garden
they are a sign of new life,
the rebirth of a love
almost forgotten.
Will summer bring music
this year? I have promised
it to myself
in shining bronze.

Stephen Brooke ©2012

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