playing our
song
a breeze played
telephone wires,
every conversation
cooled and traveling
unknown paths.
nightfall
was expected
but not all together
welcome, for
a daylong
symphony of thought
gathered, and we,
too,
gathered ourselves
for soul music in
sunlight and fire,
Blue Moon and
a skipping stylus
holding us mid-air
against our
will.
Poem © 2012 R. Burnett Baker
Photo © 2012 R. Burnett Baker
I like the breeze playing telephone wires...lovely dreamy mooniness...
ReplyDeleteblue moon.....yes
ReplyDeleteYour wordplay here is unusually light and breezy. What triggered it? :)
ReplyDeleteNot sure, Nyl. I think "Blue Moon" was playing on the radio or something..... I posted on FB that I had NO idea where this came from, and that it was probably meaningless! Ha!
DeleteMight be the song.. but idk.. I'm sensing something else here. Maybe I've been reading you for too long. haha
DeleteThere's nothing quite like listening to a favorite record, and having a scratch make the needle skip over and over again. but then, you have probably NEVER had to experience that, what with iPods, iHomes, and iWads....! ha ha ha! Ah, vinyl!
DeleteBut that last stanza does seem to hint at something a bit more disconcerting.
Well that explains that then..
DeleteKids these days won't understand how thrilling it was to play a song repetitively. How you'd play it, rewind it and try to catch the start of the same osng.