Poetry Blogs (vinyl)

I remember hearing my father's voice

      from beyond the grave.

      No dream—a single, scratchy vinyl

      had captured his characteristic

      lilting, homiletic style,

      that seemed,

       in and of itself,

       to be the message—

       no surprises there,

       nor flights,

       yet a resonance

       that touched

       and stays with me

...

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