The Sound-Waves Wander Onward

And here I am in this moment,
thinking on these scattered others.

I see my grandfather (mother’s father,
the only one I knew) close his eyes
as he listens to his favourite song –
Glenn Miller’s Moonlight Serenade
from a record, or the piano
that he plays. As he opens them
again while the piece still unfolds
the room is mine, the vision this,
the same music from my laptop speakers.

I see my father sitting, as
a child, beneath a dining table,
listening to a Ray Charles record,
to convert, one day, onto cassette
for to stop the sound from ceasing.
His eyes close as the music plays, and
as they open and the song yet lingers
the room is mine, the vision this,
the same music from my laptop speakers.

The same big band, the same man’s voice:
the sound-waves wander onward as I close my eyes.

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