Strings and Strums

A wooden acoustic guitar was resting low in its floor stand, thick bronze strings gleaming just an inch above the rug. I gave the lowest string an eager nudge with my green stem—twang, hummm! A deep, warm vibration buzzed straight into my plush belly. What a glorious chime! Wobbling sideways, I nestled my curved back right against the metal strings. Every time I rocked from stem to tip, plink, thrum, ring went the gentle notes. The polished hollow wood echoed each chord like a huge, humming cave. I swayed back and forth in slow time, playing my very own lazy afternoon tune.