Records in the Snow
By
Lisa A. Williams
Mother-
thin blood
between us.
Fathers-
one stood by,
one abandoning,
his absence
always feeding
a green need.
Cast into the cold,
we found our music-
45’s
haphazardly tossed
like Frisbees,
landing upright
in a dead of winter
snow.
Our treasure creating
a warmer air
between us.
Rushing in-
to hear old songs-
“Hey Paula”
our first discovery,
followed by
The Tokens
and their sleepy
lion.
Then the Beatles
asking,
if we “want to know a
secret”
and did we “promise
not to tell?”
Girlish giggles,
filled the tiny room.
For a short time,
we were bonded
by our love
for the music,
only for it
to be consumed
by old hurt’s
homecoming
.
I wonder
after all this time,
if she still
remembers
the records in the
snow?
Some beautiful pieces, Lisa. I especially liked this one. It paints a lot of pictures with a lot of feeling with excellent word choices and flow. Submit this somewhere if you haven't already.")
ReplyDeletebtw, have you ever considered moving your blog to wordpress?
ReplyDeleteA felt piece. You really nailed an atmosphere of nostalgia and wistfulness. Nicely done.
ReplyDeleteHeart-felt poems in your blog.
ReplyDeleteThis poem - First, I like the strong way you start it: "Mother-," then "Fathers-." I like the "old" music theme (Beatles, etc.). And you have some great details and wording: "his absence always feeding a green need"; "45’s haphazardly tossed..." Etc.