Girl & Guitar

• Emma Szczotko, Grade 10
• Poetry
• 2007

It captures my gaze, leaving me with no power
To resist its charm. Its potential beckons me,
The music waits impatiently for me
To make it Live.

The talking head cries to me, demanding me
To make it sing.
Lifting it up, its body
Fits comfortably into mine.

Its steel strings caress my hardened fingertips, my thumb presses firmly into the memories imprinted upon its neck.
It bears the marks of our history, created
By the need we have for each other.

We dream of performing; of
Injecting energy into the crowd, to make them live, like us.
We’re in the moment. We can feel the sound!
We are one. Hear our voice!