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City Symphony

I am set on his tattered blue jean knee, my strap placed on his back. I see vendors and people along the street. A hum hangs in the air as pedestrians meander along the sidewalk. I feel a sense of excitement with all the city-walkers and cars rushing about… It's as if I'm looking at a painting with too many colors dancing around the canvas.

The kid grabs his pick and places his callused fingers into a chord. He gives a light strum just soft enough for his own ears to hear. The sweet harmony clatters against the blabbering city. He shifts his fingers over to a minor and begins to alternate pick into a heartwarming tune. I ring out strong, my strings reverberating brassily. The melody drifts throughout the square like a sweet fragrance...As beautiful and innocent as a child's laughter. I see a head or two turn to look our way- the mellifluous song has caught their ears.

The pick drums against my strings and relinquishes a copper vibrancy that fills the earth. The music sways like an acoustic breeze. It intertwines with the pound of people walking, the chattering surrounding us, the honking taxi; our music becomes part of the city's symphony.

The kid's fingertips fly from fret to fret, barring chords, and the sounds fall as free as April rain. All around people cease their speaking to listen. They venture near us and bob their heads or tap their toes. I watch their pleasant faces, motionless, listening intently. The aria takes us all to the same place. I look up at the beamy blue sky. The crescendo twang on the strings soars like an eagle, bathing the city in a symphonious lullaby. I am only an old battered guitar with new strings, but the music that comes out of me reveals a lost glimmer within; I am proud to be the one filling these streets with music.
The kid begins to slow his playing. He gives the strings a slap to end the music with a lovely halt. Contently, he takes his hand off my neck. The crowd around us applauds. They begin to awake from their musical reverie and disperse. Across the way though, I believe I hear someone say, "Won't you play another?"




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Kris Kristofferson said...
May 16 at 8:57 pm:
Wow, I'm a trombone player and this is the exact same way I feel about music. I love it most when the sound becomes one body naturally. I also love how it is through the perspective of the guitar. The figurative language is also awesome.
 
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flamestarThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. said...
Apr. 21 at 3:28 pm:
I felt like i was there. Its really cool how you changed it up and told it from the guitar's POV. 
 
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The Author said...
Nov. 12, 2008 at 2:07 pm:
Thank you so very much.
 
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Fellow Teen Inker said...
Nov. 8, 2008 at 5:26 am:
That was phenomenal. I really could see the whole thing.
 
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