I wanted to know why the hands
stopped
yearning
for the strings
they were caked
bumps and callous patterns
not the right
kind of progressions
not the desired ones
yet underneath
the stuttering grip
and the delicate-less
fumble of the fretless
here I set beyond the waking hours
with the deepest of needs
before sunrise
why the strumming
why the strumming
why the strumming had to stop.
-j
