from home
to the next home,
in boxes,
in bins
you carried your musical
idols along
with you
to each
new landing, to each
new dwelling.
every song
was in you. each
scratch and skip
found along the slick
surface of the
the lp vinyl, was
imbedded
in your skin.
each album was
played endlessly,
from end to end,
while you
pondered
the endless questions
of youth.
and now they sit,
in the dark,
side by side in the cellar,
collecting dust, with
most questions
answered,
but not all.
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