her fingers pluck moon glow
from catgut and steel
rosewood heat caressed
between thumb and forefinger
the neck of a bottle
cherry wine still flowing
slides along the frets
she sings of forgetting
of how James from Kahnawake
taught her slide guitar
calling her
from the bus depot
that new year's eve
she watched his pudgy finger
enter the glass bottle slide
as his practiced right hand
stroked out Muddy and Eric's
blues
then gave her a try
that night
the last time
she'd stayed up all night
on new years eve
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