Old Song Poem by Morgan Michaels

Here comes that old song
the one you don't hear much now
recommending peace, love
its pushing-fifty vintage dubbing it...
what- a dated anthem?
even now, though, no one can deny
its heartfelt theme of healing
and generational accord
as few then could resist
just singing along
lured into the cat's cradle of its easy
three part harmonies,
its steel-guitar solos
soaring, spiraling
dizzily skyward
like a pair of larks ascending
in the salmon flush of dawn-
cactus referencing star
as the car, bound homeward,
screeched to a halt at the red light
top drawn up or fastened down-
soaring, resounding
into the overhead void.

There goes that old song, again
fading away
decibel by decibel
like a musical dream
accepted as good
fading in time
from time into time-
three minutes max
of the warmest wax
like a drop
in a rain-bothered sea
trailing sweet emotion
leaving you wondering, again,
whether the healing's
worth the pain
seeing its
to settle in again.