Planh

Dream with dead father how did you find me?
Morning now a Mozart violin concerto on the radio
Sadness built in. As a boy: “you know that’s me
in the radio–that’s how I feel!” Father of dream
Last night you told me to play more guitar.

I’m lonely in this city.
If solitude is my lot the music helps
But foolish to say it–”That’s me, dad
Right there in the Philco….”

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