Segovia's Guitar

….an April poem...

Segovia’s Guitar

 

 

Day 10 and I am reminded

my mom once told me

if I listened closely,

I could hear music

playing on the wind;

feel the notes

as they danced in colors

of reds and yellows;

could taste melodies

floating on moonbeams.

 

I was young

and didn’t know what this meant

until she took me

to hear Segovia play his guitar.

It was magickal,

the way his fingers

caressed the strings,

as flats and sharps

drifted in the air.

 

While I have remained fascinated

by music,

it wasn’t until I met you

that her words flooded

back into focus,

and I was woven

into the fabric and magick of music

like I was

when I heard Segovia’s

guitar sing.

 

Day 10 of Poetry Month,

and every time I hear music,

I want to write a poem for you.

 

Aztec Warrior/redzone 4.10.18

Author's Note

....thanks for reading... the music starts 12 seconds in...