writing a song for the family,
he takes the guitar in hand
and stares at blank staff
paper,
wondering how the hell
this turns into sheet
music.
and his sister had done
it so effortlessly, pounding
new rhymes into the piano
as easy as greeting a friend.
she was the clear and keen
one. the story mother told;
the fight father relished.
with the guitar, he was a survivor.
whose hand knows no touch
of the melody. who nonetheless,
must write a song for the family.