Among the things I never
could have imagined
back in the day
at a Lower East Side
bar while hearing
some song called
“Heart-Shaped Box”
pulsing out of
the speakers
was that over
twenty years later
my almost twelve year
old daughter
would be learning
to play the insides
of it on guitar—
the fuzz, the blur,
the sweep—
and that I’d be
living in a small
town in Virginia,
enjoying the
path I’m taking
and the unobscured view
of blue mountains
as my hair
slowly turns
gray.

-Jose Padua

Photograph by Jose Padua