The Sound Remains the Same
I’m looking at an old picture,
you are playing the squeeze box,
the same one you play today.
If I could press play
on the image,
are you playing
a familiar tune, perhaps,
“Saltwater Cowboy”
Your face has less laugh lines,
no wedding band
to be seen.
No one calling you Dad,
yet
the sound is the same.
It is very likely
the festive occasion,
when you play the most.
The food has been eaten.
The drinking has started.
It’s time to play the Hohner.
Your fingers move along
the buttons.
You are looking around smiling.
You press the right ones
every time.
You don’t even have to look.
You still play the same way today.
Asked can you teach me,
you shrug, “I learned by ear”.
Now you’re called Poppy,
by a few tiny but bright minds.
Your fingers never miss a button,
even after a cold, frosty night.
The sound is always the same.
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