Saturday, February 9, 2008

Kithara's Lament

I wait with my sister
my twin
for him to come.

He walks through the door
and moves toward us.

I wonder;
will it be me?

He picks her up
pulls her into his lap
caressing her curves
cradling her neck
and begins to play.

His hands move across her strings
pressing, plucking, strumming
as music fills the air.

My strings respond to each chord
vibrating, resonating
humming subtly
hollowness yearning to be filled
to be played
to sing along
to feel the wonder of the music-maker’s touch.

Instead, I hum
and wait in hope
for the someday that will come
when he who plays
will fill me with song.

And I will sing.

--Chantelle Franc

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