Goodnight Tonight

I can hear Sunday morning
on your still-Saturday night;
driving back in a rainstorm
to say so long.
When I call ahead home
I hear you
let out a smooth note
for eons on your F# harp
while broken lines
define my lane.
I hear you egging me on
in this wind so strong;
“A little bit further now!
A little bit louder now!”

while the pedal steel gently wails.
I hear your 3 hound dogs like backup singers
barking and howling with delight,
your song crashing and burning
on my hands-free telephone,
like Champagne bubbles exploding
when spit into the fire.

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