Bourrée

How do you bear
these open eyes
like the ones
you showed me,
a photograph from
thirty years ago?
No one knows
at age four
that fear evolves,
becoming yearning. So

Surprise me now.
Lay your fingers
on the neck
of this Spanish
guitar and pluck
showers of notes.
Now I smile.
In my smile
decades compressed show
a faint glimmer.