A memory

The moon is dropping
like an old coin into a memory box.
A bloke on the radio is miserable,
he can’t stomach his chinese takeaway.
Music has forgotten
it is allowed to be an escape
and not soundtrack a mood.
I woman has the greatest anecdote
on the world but refuses to say it
out of respect, despite it being about someone
who is known to have a good sense of humour.
Hobbies are dead for a few days
but they will return and we will sing
a new song.

© Carl Burkitt 2022

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