|photo by @luyu (@yiota143) in instagram http://instagram.com/luyu/|
"... back then, we didn't have all these machines
you have now...
we used to gather in the evenings,
all the family around that wooden box
to listen to the news from europe
and american music
our dreams swinging, sinatra and moonlight serenade
we started dancing
and our parents had to
talk us back to quiet
but will never forget
the voice of that man saying
that the war started
that the war ended
and the tears in our eyes
we were listening to history made
we couldn't see
but we used our imagination
and that was harder
and filled our hearts with real awe...
and then those days,
before our first kiss
we were touching - "accidentaly"
going to change station at the same time,
and our fingers were exchanging secret kisses
as we were trying to tune in
to hear another song...
happy days under the sun
where boys and girls knew how to fall in love...
you are thirsty to see
more and more and more
an endless fair, a feast for the eyes
but do you really see?...
you don't care anymore
you lose sight of the essence
by seeing too much
such an oxymoron
and love has become just a four letter word
Signs of the times...i know..."
and then she stands up from the sofa
slow steps heavy with age
she stops before the old radio
~ now just an antique,
long silenced from the swift hand of progress
with its wires
a mess of red and green and blue branches
a multicolored tree of memories that grows inside that box
and a twisted antenna still hanging
like a broken arm, from its side...
she caresses the wood, her arthritic fingers going over the buttons
all the memories there, she can almost hear them...
and then with a sigh
and mumbling "where did all these go..."
she goes to bake bread in the kitchen
and fool the inexorable Time
for one more day...
linked to @dVersePoets Pub Poetics