With a Grin and a Small Guitar
–for Charlie Whittington, 1948-2019
Let his notes vibrate above the market
as he jokes with the shy busker
playing her bassoon, his face
reflecting the light like the surface of a pond.
Let his strumming attend our acquaintance
with artichokes and asparagus–
his whitish beard, flowered shirt,
baseball cap harbingers of peace.
Let his whirlwind voice convey
anecdotes and good words,
a sly wink and easygoing gaze
hovering over the town square.
10 thoughts on "With a Grin and a Small Guitar"
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“Let his strumming attend our acquaintance” – marvelous!
Reminds me of fresh nice Summer.
This poem is so dynamic. I love “reflecting the light like the surface of a pond”
We need more people like this in our lives. Thanks for sharing, Gaby.
He sounds lovely.
This is quite beautiful. idiosyncratic and a tribute to someone that I don’t know,but I see him very well
This could be the music makers eulogy of all times. It is an earnest praise and admiration–all these things wrapped in one small poem.
He sounds incredible, and your words bring him to life beyond the page.
Gorgeous work!
I enjoy especially your frame of “Let his….” and all the beautiful details so concrete.
This was a very sweet and beautiful dedication to one’s life!