That old familiar song
A chord recalled from deepest youth
KMPC radio days and a yellow squash dinner
Smelled of fire-warmed cheeks and rustling L.A. Times Read and discarded in paper drives

It's such a long, pulled thread
That memory running through me
Trapped deeply within me
Doubled back,, looped around again and again
An immense movement stirred
Tugging at the young boy still clenched tight in my belly Still free of "Joint" cares and evil ways to fear

          I really wanna know you
          Alleluja
          I really wanna show you
          Alleluja

That Krishna melody
So incidental to my '70's, background, radio world
Returns me home
A flight of years
of vast, unfathomable distance
To the sunshine, blue sky days
A two-year old perched high as sky on dad's shoulder
Nuzzled with mom watching Merv Griffin
On a red, scratchy couch

My Polaroid pictures paint brilliant Technicolor songs

If only you could feel this as I do
You'd taste the squash, too
You'd smell the dinner, long decades late to table
You'd feel the fire on your skin, flush with love and safety
And have the thread within you pulled


 

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