REEL TO REEL—AUDIO TAPE <br /> <br />I pull it out of the drawer where all things <br />gone under go. The room tightens, silent, <br />but nothing’s repeated; and quiet sings, <br />I’m told, in choirs of thought. I’m content <br />to toss the spool—then I scan the label: <br />“Dad reads Annabel Lee”. The sheer air roars— <br />no vocal sound— Veins scream. I’m not able <br />to talk. Words drown when silence slowly pours. <br />.The tape player's stilled like this desk clock's own <br />hands: they death-grip noon –no twelve gasps to hear. <br /> Reel and clock are thrown back, drawer almost sewn. <br />Yet no stuck door will stop a single tear. <br />If there’s a God, where's exclusion by choice? <br />For I listen: silence; listen: dad’s voice!<br /><br />Glenn Bagshaw<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/audio-tape/
