Posted by: Aunt Magaidh | June 30, 2010

Poem written 6/30/2010

Listening to Little Earthquakes

20 years.
Apparently that is how long
it takes
to let my psyche recover
to enjoy the songs
we once played on the stereo
back in our apartment
in Boston.
I’ve rediscovered the sound
of the songstress and
her piano.
The album reminds me of
the romance
and the pain
that this woman I am
when I was a younger
The humid air is a memory,
as is your
and touch.
Why is it
that you so loved this album of breakup songs
when we were together?
But I digress…
into a pit of memory
that I don’t care to examine
right now,
here when I sit in the
light of a life
I had no imagination
to picture
I let the music
return to me
and remind me of a youth
I’ve travelled
so far


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