Resin swirls across the floor.
The country band has left;
and a mandolin
still sits in a window,
half a wooden pear.

The dry boards creak and pop,
the brass chandelier clinks softly.
I take the mandolin, and go out
under the ivy arbor,
and the swaying canopy of oak.

A folding chair falls shut on the patio;
on the dark, uneven bricks.
I lean in the doorway,
and slide my fingers along
the rosewood neck.

As I begin to play
the wind rises,
like a girl
getting up from her chair,
for the last dance.
~David St. John~


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"Love Notes" © Denton Lund
An original oil painting

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© Tina's Prayer Gate
May 10, 2013