The Guitarist's Lament, by Kari Ann Ebert

The Old Guitarist, by Pablo Picasso (Spain). 1903.

The Guitarist’s Lament                                                                                              

fingers thin as chopsticks
hollow cheeks      sallow skin
time etched in flesh      he plays the song
about the day she ducked into his shop
 
pink taffeta     pillbox hat
skirts hung like fractured wings & clung
to her stockings      streamlets dripped
into patent leather          the heel of her pump
like a wounded wren so delicate     so damaged      
she peered out the window         searched the face
of each passerby         as if fearing whom she’d find
his sternum echoed her heart      frantic & trembling     
hand brushed instep   foot slid into mended shoe     
she fled & vanished    into the tight fist of the crowd
 
he sits by the window cross-legged & barefoot    
slumped upon the hardwood floor     skin like vellum
holds in the ache      he strums a slow blue tune     
calls to her ghost with the rising indigo

Kari Ann Ebert

Kari Ann Ebert’s poetry has appeared in literary journals including cahoodaloodaling, The Broadkill Review and Gargoyle, as well as the anthology Aurora. She also writes short fiction and is currently editing her first novel. She was selected by Delaware Division of the Arts to attend the 2016 Seashore Writers Retreat and was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2016. She lives in Delaware where she enjoys being a part of a vibrant tribe of writers. She has two grown children who write and are active in the dramatic arts.