Gregory O'Brien

Three Poems

Guitar, Hanga Roa, Easter Island

Eight-stringed and night-long
strummed, you prove yourself

a necessary accompaniment on these
longest of evenings. Bigger

than a fishscale, smaller than the sky,
how do your songs describe you?

Wider than a sardine, narrower
than the sea. Sing to us

of how, in this world of untimely things,
a man might also be defined—

half way between a grass skirt
and a headstone, a mollusc

and an ocean-liner. Mid-way between
a hammer and wind-tossed

palm. No, upon reflection
do not tell us, Guitar. Sing instead

only of your strings and not
of how this world is strung.








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