Monday, August 17, 2015

August 17, 2015 The Sundays Whirligig/Old Cobblestone Street

Old Cobblestone Streets

on old cobblestone streets       we strolled in the shadows        mariachis played 

songs of the heart                     it was a journey to mexico       so many years ago

you sped away in the first motor car                 i missed the chance to go with you

suddenly i was alone in a foreign country                    i did not speak the language

later we met for dinner                  danced until midnight                we were young

our lives stretched before us          or so we thought                        we had no idea 

it would all end so soon at the mortuary                   sometimes there are no clues

no warnings             about the road ahead                  ...what dangers maybe waiting

it was morning                  early fall                            my favorite time of year

the phone rang              i answered                the party on the other end of the line

spoke in a language      i could not understand          confused i hung up the phone

it rang again              then i recognized your voice         you said darling... he is dead

the words so final        no more questions asked                         what was the point

you told me the ending                  what difference did the story make

the who what when or where         i am not a magician                           yet things 

...and people have often disappeared       not to reappear          alone now in the shadows           

i have told you the ending        mariachis still sing from the heart       romance is in the air

August 17, 2015


Sherry Blue Sky said...

Oh those calls, after which nothing is ever the poignant the mariachis that still sing in your heart.

Magical Mystical Teacher said...

"sometimes there are no clues no warnings about the road ahead"

I'd say that's true most of the time. We never know what's going to happen from moment to moment. Life changes, for good or ill, in an instant.

Despite the despairing quality of this poem, it ends on a note of hope with those mariachis still singing from the heart. May they never be silenced!

R.K. Garon said...

Yes... I can feel it in the air.