Yesterday

Yesterday

It was in a gift shop
in a back street
on Montmartre.

I was drawn to it
and the single word, “Yesterday”
printed on the tiny cardboard box.

The little metal handle with the red bead
spun a tune from the past.
One that replayed a youth I’d lost so long ago.
A lament of loss,
of a need to turn back time
and once more I embraced that old feeling of …

Turning the little red handle
ghosts paraded through
a stifled tear.

At once I wanted to cry pain, cry anger,
to fly back to another time,
to take my hammer and violently build.

I was resigned to
stand in a little shop
where I didn’t understand the language
and just be with an old melancholy.

A presence at my elbow,
“I’ll buy that for you.”
grandson, spending my money on gifts for me.

But what price? Yesterday.

Now the little music box movement,
sits on my desk – just under the computer
and near the desk lamp.

It sits asking that question of yesterday,
of tomorrow,
and today.


Till next week,

Andrew

About Andrew Reynolds

Born in California Did the school thing studying electronics, computers, release engineering and literary criticism. I work in the high tech world doing software release engineering Then I got prostate cancer Now I am a blogger and work in my wood shop doing scroll saw work and marquetry.
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20 Responses to Yesterday

  1. So sad, but how nice of grandson!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. My heart broke reading your poem. There was a time when I couldn’t listen to any music at all, because music makes you feel whether you want to or not. I completely understand your deluge of emotion. Beautifully expressed, Andrew.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. There are times when I hear certain songs on Sirius that I just have to turn it off. I can’t listen anymore. The feelings that come back are too intense, the regrets too painful, the sadness of Spring turning in to Winter without warning too real. No time for the tears most of the time…

    Liked by 2 people

  4. CJ Hartwell says:

    That happened to me recently, only it was a smell that transported me back to summers spent at my grandparent’s house. I’d love to have a bottle of that.

    Liked by 2 people

  5. Debra says:

    Very touching, stirring my own melancholy. I was “missing” some loved ones this weekend. A big birthday weekend in times past. Mementos can be very important. Thank you for your sensitive sharing, Andrew.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. dorannrule says:

    I have a music box that stirs not only my memories but recalls the memories of my father.

    Liked by 2 people

  7. Very quiet and moving, Andrew. If Time is a river, music is the tsunami of memories.
    Ω

    Liked by 3 people

  8. I want one too. The grandson I mean. Well, the music box too.

    Liked by 1 person

  9. Music is time travel for me. I hear an old song and bam! I’m back in the past where all those memories are stored.

    Liked by 2 people

  10. Raymond Lockley says:

    I love the idea that a music box handle turning back time.

    Liked by 2 people

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