Eleanor

NOTE that a slightly edited version of this story has been put forth for the identity challenge....

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Sitting there on my worn bar stool

The familiar tear in the vinyl scratching my leg

Like an old hound wanting attention

I take in the ambience.. breathing in life

Flourescent lights flicker in the dim

Like a weak disco ball

Spinning over a well worn dance floor

Cracked, splintered by many thousands of feet

Swaying, dancing, jumping, shuffling

Wearing tracks of history into the tired wood

Erratic shadows flirting, flitting

Tugging at my eyes, begging me to come play

Flickering in time with my erratic pulse

Unique scents, yet so familiar ... stale beer, old sweat

A room with a century of history

A room as old as myself...

With my arthritic hands, aching joints

Earned daily over seven and a half decades

Nostrils distended, I take in the familiar fragrance

Scents of desire... the smell of despair

Countless phantoms haunt this room

Spirits of wounded souls who wander here

To find a haven from the tempest

To lose themselves in whiskey and blues

One last time ... for old times sake

Here I will play one final time

Here where my very essence

Has been scoured into the walls

Peeling with the paint

Every note strummed scraping a piece

Ground into the surface of the old plank floor

Where I played to rapt listeners

Time and again

Fulfilling my destiny

Now fulfilled

Ready to be passed on

Opening up her case

I lift her by the neck

Lovingly I caress her body

My fingers stroking her smoothness

Gliding like oil on steel

Fire on ice

I pluck at her heartstrings

Melancholy melody of regret unfolding

My eyes close as I lean into her

Her musical tones waft through the air

Elegantly gracing the room with sublime presence

I breathe in her smell

My soul soars with the notes

Through the roof into the clouds above

Where eternally youthful eyes

Watch from above

As dancing fingers move

Weaving a whimsical blue tapestry

This old lady has been a constant companion

My support in times of strife

She was the first true love of my life

Eleanor I named her

After that one girl in high school

Many a night Eleanor kept me from sinking

Drowning into an abyss of despair

Other times she led me to heights of bliss

As my fingers strummed

Some said Eleanor played me ...

They may be correct in that

Eleanor's redoubtable soul is stronger than mine

Hers is a soul meant to carry the ages

Which she has done sublimely

Since I learned my first actual song

First heard the right combination of sorrow

Drift forth from her to soothe my regrets

Eleanor has had the power to captivate

To work her insidious way into minds and hearts

The moment that I first strummed her

Is the moment in which my very essence changed

Changed irrevocably ... My future set

Subservient to the gods of music

As embodied in this old guitar

Her sound sometimes a balm ...

Sometimes a thunderous storm

Others a cool breeze on a summer night

Lost in oblivious harmony I drift along

Finally, my eyes open

Eleanor lies across my lap

She fits like a glove

Her body worn to fit perfectly

From years of lying there as I carressed her

Behind the bar old John stands

Mesmerized, lost, dreaming his own soliloquy

I smile.. He nods...

John resumes polishing the gleaming bar

Acknowledging my sacrifice

Yet giving me my space for this sad farewell

Eventually Eleanor allows my fingers to cease

Final blue notes drift into eternity

Here where she played to worshipful crowds

Year after year ... decade upon decade

Where the blues were king

Eleanor had been queen

Her pick the crown jewel

My days of blending harmony are coming to an end

Jazz, blues, occasional bluegrass ... Slowing... ceasing ...

Arthritic fingers ... temporarily youthful and pliant

Begin to once more clench up

Unnoticed, unacknowledged ... teardrops fall

Marring Eleanor's sublime cherry finish

Spotting, spreading ... salty, tangy, sad, yet so sweet

Soaking into her as my own spirit has been consumed

Our long history as lovers ending

Our parting amicable but sad

Next to me the euphoric young musician

Watching in awe ...

Listening with rapturous ears

His fingers dancing in time

Caught up in the power ...

Ensnared in Eleanor's musical web

With a wan smile I lift Eleanor from my lap

I feel the worn spots where she has stroked my thighs

My legs ache with loss... cold seeping in

I grace Eleanor's neck with one final kiss

Before passing her on to her new lover

Holding Eleanor out to the young blues player

I silently say goodby

Without another word I stand and depart

I can't bring myself to listen to another ...

Another man stroking my life's partner

Intimately cradling her neck

Another man's fingers strumming her heart strings

Bringing forth those haunting notes of lustful euphoria

As I reach the door a new note fills the room

A note of youthful exuberance

A note of high expectation and joy

A note of final separation

I close the door behind me

Goodbye Eleanor

Whom I have loved

My six decades long moment ... Departed

My song is done

Yours continues