Saturday Poem: Guitar Lesson

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is the enemy.

The fingers

must find the strings

without trying.

Every note played

until now,

bad or good,

is gone.

There is only

the next note,

the coming chord.

It's the sound

of your next breath

that's in your hands.


Richard D. Ankney, a nuclear engineer, lives in Squirrel Hill and has been published in The Pennsylvania Review, In Pittsburgh and the poetry anthology 95 Windows, among other publications.


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