one more for the road

one for my baby,
one more for the road
Sinatra
sings
on the old vinyl,
in your big
speaker
pioneer stereo.
it crackles
along the grooves,
almost sticking
on a word or
two.
but around it goes
at 33 rpm,
reminding you
of things in the past,
the near
and far past.
each love different,
each loss new.
so you play it
again, lifting
the needle to where
it begins, letting
Sinatra croon it,
one for my baby,
and one more for
the road.