From 1946 or so
Runs through my head,
Some dance band piece.
The streamlined Silvertone
Plays softly in the living room;
My mother’s dressed for company;
Her starched cotton rustles.
The sweet almond scent
Of her Jergens,
Hints of roses from her talcum,
Perfume the air.
Tender potroast, baked potatoes,
Laughter and happy looks;
Uncle Jack is home at last
After two years in the Air Force.
All this from four notes
In a minor key
With a Latin beat,
Like pressed flowers in a book.
©2004 John I. Blair
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