By Karen Kenyon
I am driving on that street
that long ago led to a record store.
And it’s raining.
It’s been years since we used to go there
since we strolled down aisles of beautiful albums,
music filling the store
and our lives.
You are gone now too,
just for a second,
I feel a crack in time.
It feels like you are still there,
waiting for me to
get back on this rainy day.
A shopping bag full of new music.
And soon we’ll be together again,
listening through the rain,
immersed in our own string theory.