To Sketch a Picture
Solid steel strings,
A polished wooden neck,
Shining tuning knobs,
And a sturdy, resonant body,
Resting across the knees,
Of worn out jeans.
And calloused fingers,
Not dancing, but drawing,
Beautiful clear strums into the
Smoky evening air.
With voices floating high above,
Mingling with the crashing waves,
And the sand between your toes.
And then you might have a sketch