It was after dinner
so he picked up his guitar
and strummed a few chords
a G, a C, an A
and he hummed along
his voice deep and dark
and raspy
the firelight illuminated his face
in some places and
formed shadows in others
his strums picked up rhythm
and pretty soon he was singing
a song on death
and selling your soul to the devil
at the crossroads
the song ended with a final
strum on the ancient guitar
his eyes, closed
reliving memories from long ago