ode to my guitar

[hollypatrice]

in the night, you fell
simply slipped
along the wall,
smashed

now your umber curves
rest against the black trunk
under the window

sad coils of strings like hair
lead to your head,
broken on the floor

in a sunbeam, I see
your light layer of dust,
my thumbprint,
the frost of a memory

forgive my neglect
as of late, I have been all
about words, not enough
attention to note