I lost my plectrum,
and so scoured the house for days
in vain, turning tables
in hopes of turning the song
towards something special.

My guitar is always out of tune,
suspended from bedroom wall,
waiting on clumsy thumb to
bring itself to chipped fret board
to remember forgotten chords,
only played the day before,
each string sounding individually
without the plastic to
bring a shared clarity.

I gave myself calluses,
but there was always something

I found the plectrum eventually
on the day after you left the city,
and from then on the melody
simply melted into nothing
worth recording
leaving our song as yet unsung,
lacking the magic in my thumbs.

Chichester, May 2017


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