haiku retrospective xviii

our old turntable
dies lamentably slowly.
click, click, click, turn, click.

after bonnie's death
records called, a cold comfort.
click, turn, spin -- music.

jimmy cliff a prayer --
the harder they come, oh yes,
sitting in limbo.

this reggae music
loosens kodiak girl sprite,
faces of ghost boys.

cat stevens -- why not?
adolescent memories.
my mom, my uncle.

how can i tell you?
oh, my young uncle steve, oh,
my sexy mother.

dancing, sipping wine,
singing with their two guitars.
their laughter, their loves.

renaissance candles,
molding wax with my fingers.
their passionate eyes.

baby cousins sleep.
my brother and i, elbows propped,
watch them and listen.

their lives in their words.
they forget us as they talk.
little pitcher's ears.

flirtations, affairs.
their hearts yearning for something,
young and innocent.

their hair gone silver,
their loves small hearthside blazes,
eye jewels faded.

oh, please wait. come back,
i have questions to ask you!
oh mom, oh steve, *oh*.

the tears fall at last.
imaginary demon, time,
steals all that's precious.

stop! wait! slow down, please.
that tiny tick-tick goes on,
the sands of my life.

22 July 1997