Home
> All Poetry > Old Songs
Report abuse
Submit my work
Share/bookmark
Email
Print
Tag as favoriteOld Songs 
By Seth M., Derry, NH
The grinding squeak of rusty chains
sing along with the endless back and forth of the ancient swing.
The fragrance of old man's tobacco
drifts away with the wind.
Summer evenings are the longest, it seems,
quiet nights, shadows in street lamps
pitchers of lemonade on the front porch.
Old songs on the A.M. radio
Grandpa's once - proud voice rasping along.
Moths flitted near the porchlight
warm wind banged screen door
Yesterday's songs echo in Grandpa's mind.
The stars of his youth danced above his head
in time to the tuneless melodies he hums
vague reminders of forgotten youth
Yesterday's harmonies hung in the silence he left
as he flew to the stars
in search of new songs.
This piece has also been published in Teen Ink's monthly print magazine.
Post a Comment