Warm guitar in hand

strings under his fingers play

pluck, strum

slowly she closes her eyes

cold bottle to her lips

remembering.

 

Flip flops tap to the rhythm

he slaps the guitar

she touches her cheek

catches a tear before he notices

faster now faster.

 

Flip flops tap to the rhythm

he strums a new cord she’s never heard

cold bottle to her lips

she listens.

 

Feet can’t help but go there

heart can’t help but feel

he plucks, he strums, he taps

she remembers

cold bottle to her lips

tears she cannot hide

falling in love with his new song.

Barbara Caceres has had poetry published in Deep South Magazine, Eye on Life, Off The Coast and Literary Yard. She lives a few miles south of Seattle and works in the healthcare field. She enjoys writing personal essays and shares them on her blog at Thecleofile@wordpress.com In 2011 Barbara completed a non-fiction writing certificate program at the University of Washington.

 

 

 

NEW SONG

Barbara G. Caceres

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Poetry

February 2018

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Literary Juice