Monday, December 6, 2010
Today I visited with you.
We sat in your tobacco stained living room, you on your pallette
and I in the rocking chair.
The light filtered in through the smoke that wafted
up above you. We sat without speaking for long periods of
time, taking turns picking out songs and listening on the stereo.
I looked at the knobs I'd touched so many times. Those gold
colored stereo knobs. I wonder when it was that I last touched them?
Periodically a song would end and we'd sit in that silence.
"Wonderful" you said quietly after hearing a new song you loved.
I knew you would.
I miss you. I miss your measured voice on the answering machine
that I called so many times after you died in order to just hear your voice.
I miss your hands putting a Pall Mall in that old silver ashtray.
I miss coming over and feeling stress melt away because in that space
that you created I could be myself.
All too often I hear music and think of you. Sometimes it's a song
I knew you loved and other times it's a song and I think to myself
"Did he know that one?"
"Shit, I hope so"
I know I'm a little late, but I know you wouldn't mind.
I'm sorry I have to go now. The dog pooped on the floor, the baby
is throwing food and dinner isn't yet started.
I'll see you again soon, in a rare moment of quiet, when I can
close my eyes and listen to the music.
Posted by MLB at 3:53 PM