The End Times

(after Asher ReTech’s “Loss for Words”)

I stumbled upon the falling-down
cabin, abandoned and strewn
with decades of rubble, little chunks
of struggle and pain, adventure and joy
and I return every year to check
if the small case still waits unopened
in the middle of the floor,
cover tattered and torn,
used thoroughly, then forgotten
in apparent rush to flee.

Perhaps I should be saddened
by the loneliness of it
instead of reassured that it remains
undisturbed and mysterious
but when I come here I settle in
and imagine family gathered
around the old-timey record player
it might hold, one like I played 45’s on
as a child, and I can smile again.

Although the case’s lock is slightly ajar,
I’m not yet ready to peer inside
so I sit and stare and dream from afar.

©2019 Kenneth W. Arthur