The Old Guitarist

Ekphrastic poetry describes a work of visual art. For this piece, I chose:

The Old Guitarist

Painting by Pablo Picasso

His lined face

bends over the guitar,

not looking at his fingers,

but instead somewhere past

his crossed ankles,

eyes unfocused.


His chapped fingers

strum the strings;

the tune unrecognizable,

yet strangely familiar,

like half-memories

Or deja-vu.


His ripped clothes

hang from his anemic frame,

thin, blue, and torn,

exposing limbs and shoulder,

leaving him unprotected

from the cold night to come.


His whispered words

float over the dim twilight.

His figure sags further

as his song continues,

disappearing into a world

that is not listening.

Microprose – Camping

A rustle wakes me. I sit up and reach for the matches, light the lantern. The flickering light dances across my daughter’s cheek, making her look much younger than her fifteen years.

Time rewinds.

The chubby toddler rubs her eyes and rolls over, a striking young adult again.