lingering cold mist over the fields
a young buck bounds out of the dark
clears the deep ditch...gone
radio is laden with early Christmas songs
and talk radio spin
I reach down
fumbling through an old tape box
Van Halen, Trinity Sessions, Nazareth...
there it is
Bruce Springsteen: Nebraska
SIDE A is almost worn clear off
starts midway through State Trooper
flip it and listen to SIDE B
flip it back over
sing every word of Atlantic City
as I coast back into town.
I love it when the Tired Monk sings. Stay well, Ollie.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful.
ReplyDeleteI got an old album of Nebraska on aging vinyl. The crackles, pops, and hisses add to the atmosphere--not that his magical work is lacking in anyway. Nice poem. Your work seems to always bring back memories of youth. Boss would be proud.
ReplyDeleteSo nostalgic..and I'm from there.
ReplyDeleteHis best album ellie.
DeleteThey stopped making (real) music shortly after this was recorded, didn't they? Or maybe I just stopped listening. Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDeletethe exhausted attention rings in this and echoes
ReplyDeleteNothing brings back memories like favorite music. Mine happens to be Dwight Yoakam's A Thousand Miles from Nowhere.
ReplyDeleteI love those songs when you could understand the words and identify with them. I find that not to be the case in much of today's music.
ReplyDeleteGreat poetry! ~~'maybe everything that dies someday comes back' ... oh how I love this song and the Boss. I've seen him in concert four times!!!
ReplyDeleteA wonderful description of some moments singing with Bruce A great singer
ReplyDeleteGreat write!
ReplyDeleteLovely nostalgia.
ReplyDeleteNicely done.
ReplyDeleteI echo Rosemary - lovely nostalgia.
ReplyDeleteI love that I remember old and great songs, certainly flood with oft joyous memories.
Anna :o]