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Torn Paper Sleeve
by Chris Sorrenti
for Cindy
It’s a winter album you tell me
Pulling the record from its torn paper sleeve
Only to be played when the white sea laps at our door
Understandably I pose the three letter question
And you respond with your own flurry of words
Seventeen Decembers come and gone
When its tunes first resonated a teenager's bedroom
By-Tor & The Snow Dog, an appropriate rift
To accompany the ice noises of Ogilvie Road
That seventeen Decembers later
Would bring your seasonings to my door
And now over the crackle and pop of speaker fielded melodies
You recount a photo album of winters in-between
Romantic adventures in a northern capital
The last one to end in a rage of inclement feelings
But a Christmas present for me
© 1992
Album cover scan by author 2009; © Rush
1,210 hits as of March 2024
11/26/2013 Author's Note: Loosely based on places and events that occurred during the early years of my first marriage. Thanks also to (early) Rush for providing the other half of the inspiration as per the song/album, Fly By Night.
Posted on 11/26/2013
Copyright © 2024 Chris Sorrenti
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Veronica Phoenics on 12/01/13 at 10:53 AM What a delightful read! This poem summons atmosphere and feeling as well as a sense of familiarity. There is warmth in this wintery impression. |
| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 12/01/13 at 12:20 PM a beautiful read, Chris, and the irony of that last line, only reinforces this notion in me, that it is a sad hand which eggs the poet on, not a glad one. Any great poem I have ever read, was tinged in hues of forlorness and somber tones. |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 12/26/13 at 04:24 PM Poetic musings on the past shared in a most entertaining way. |
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