The Record Player

March 11, 2012
It sits on a shelf behind a door
with an impatient and excited feeling.
Waiting for someone to push POWER
so it can sing through speakers in the ceiling.
Its lively personality is hidden away
in the living room next to the stairs.
Among the couches and television,
when the music starts, nothing else compares.
Just a gray cube with silver buttons,
simple but complicated just the same.
It’s played country, gospel, Christmas carols,
almost anything you can name.
It’s the life of the party on a lonely night
and even brightens a rainy day.
Records, radio, cassettes, and 8-tracks.
It has a million things to play.
Its voice floats sweetly down the hallway,
into my room, and reaches my ears.
The record player is a comforting friend
like it has been for many years.

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