LONELY GUITAR

Lonely guitar, abandoned.
Earth voice, naked and loving.
Grandmother of longed for things.
Nightingale of fragrant woods.

Oh throat of lights out,
of your old and shiny strings
a cluster of tunes bloomed
in the agile hands of the girls.

Your roots of clear resonances
they remind me of childhood yards
with the moon in the white corridors.

Lonely guitar, abandoned,
if I shake your strings in mourning,
No wonder you sing or weep!