Diahann Carroll Rip Taylor Ginger Baker
all of them now recently dead so I heard
not really big fans of theirs but still
they were on the tv and radio sights and sounds
frequently on frequencies of my youth
green transistor radio now lost to the pages of time
images of my long ago appearing now only when I conjure them up
people I grew up seeing now and then
and if they’re dying guess who’s turn is coming up soon
not that I’m afraid of death Jack
you’re gonna die one way or another
so why be afraid of the inevitable
it’s all that wasted opportunity that burns me
youth thrown away on stupid trivial things
middle age express train not stopping or even slowing
picking up speed as it nears its final destination
opportunities that aren’t on the front porch to knock on my door no more
they boarded a train that is rusting on some abandoned siding in the snow
boarded-up stations with papers blowing among the trash nobody home
rusty rails, stones, and memories now fading like the Polaroid pictures
my mother took of vacations when life was simple
school out for summer, baseball games, family trips
