the radio

a radio might last
a year,
maybe two if it doesn't
fall off a roof,
or down a flight of stairs.
paint splattered,
gelled with glue,
caulking on the knobs.
the antennae in time
is bent
or broken off,
the speaker scratchy
with static.
batteries long dead,
the cord wrapped around
the middle.
but every now and then
I can hear song
or two eek out,
something that makes
the day go easier,
makes me remember a girl
I knew,
a place a time, when
we were younger.