HOME | DD

Description
The orchids shivered
to the sound of
raw fingers on
your old guitar,
smell of tarnish, metal
and un-calloused skin -

the only songs you know
are your father's
lullabies and a
Christian rock band's
greatest hit,
four cords strong.

Played on hot weekends
with the windows open,
twelve years old again,
fat against the waistband
of Walmart jeans
and straw hair stuck
to your forehead
in humid summer air.

I can't feel you here,
in the apartment,
know you're twelve years back
in time,
in a different town,
with no stubble on your chin.