Radio

The radio plays —

quiet now –Mother will come in

to tell us to turn it off.

Lower still. Maybe it’s off already.

We’re hearing memories. We’ll let them go too, and still

hear the memories of them.

Who is this Mama who listens for us,

and does she really care for us?

Stay away now, Mother. The radio

is off. The music all around us —

and you, and your mother, and hers,

going back —

will be there when we wake.

No receiver, no Mother, no ears.

Traveling by night.

The starlight will come in and

go out, now, and still, going out, coming in.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s