Catalog Guitar

I have a voice
that recalls
the Sears and Roebuck catalog
and the guitar
perused ordered and delivered
to our distant farm
played passionately for six months
and then discarded into a closet
as chores and other interests
took hold

I have a voice
full of herds of starving deer
running wild on abandoned pastures
pawing through the snow
to eat the smothered grass below

I have a voice
dithered and dimed by college arguments
and first love 

I have a voice
later smoked brown by long work nights
spent on projects no one remembers
discarded by bureaucracy
before implementation
with not a word of thanks or praise

I have a voice
painted blue by self-induced chokeholds
rendered red by angry desires
purpled in beatings and yellowed in age
and bleached back to empty before
one word’s ever uttered

I have a voice
which doesn’t feel much like the one
I grew into
which has no trace of inheritance
I can detect

which is no more than a wind now lost
only knowable by the last trembling
of the slightest leaf it once stirred
somewhere

is my old guitar
playing now?  is it still 
my guitar all these owners later?
is it any different at all
from any other catalog guitar
for my having owned it once?