There’s a guitar player in my own life, so I definitely identify with the sense of longing expressed. There’s an innocence to this poem that is refreshing.
I think you could delve this deeper, though. I have a thing about pronouns—there are quite a few here. If you try to remove some of those, and get more specific, I think you will have a stronger poem. It goes to the old axiom—show me, don’t tell me.
And there’s a quibble with “old country”—which one? What kinds of songs? Mournful or lively? Is there a line, or a rhythm you can reference so that we have an idea about this person so important to the speaker? How does he approach his music? Does he play for himself or for an audience? Questioning yourself and your vision can add layers beneficial to the back story.
Most of all, show me the father, not so much in physical terms, but in terms of his music. You can succeed with a poem on many levels; for me, this is a surface level at present. There’s a much deeper poem here if you commit to finding it.
I’d also suggest strongly to do away with the last stanza—if he went to heaven, he can’t go there in typical fashion. In other words, give me something different than everybody else who goes (or wants to!) there. You could end as it now stands with the next to last stanza and lose nothing.
If you do take it further, I’d love to see it. You have an interesting premise here; I just think you might go beyond the top layer. Thank you for sharing this with me.—best, Kay Day
Best regards, Kay Day
www.kayday.com