the ignored AM radio station
whispers out
Englebert Humperdinck’s
“The Last Waltz,”
and I am
immediately
transported
to my childhood:
sitting
in the front seat of
Grandma Irene’s Impala,
feeling happy
and safe,
and blissfully ignorant
of adult responsibility.
those were the days eh?
ReplyDeletewhen we did not know what to care about beyond the moment...
a safe place...an adventure...
I wouldn't mind feeling this type of blissful for a little while...all I need do is find my time-machine-song....
ReplyDeleteSometimes I think that AM radio is magic, especially after reading this poem.
ReplyDelete