Poem 468 – Side A

I slip the vinyl from its paper sleeve,
carefully cradling it with my outstretched fingers,
holding it gently like a newborn babe.

Placing it tenderly, I dust it with a cloth
then brush the needle clean. This tactile ritual
just as important as the sound produced.

The customary crackle. ‘Hello old friend’, I smile.
The soundtrack of my youth plays on with only
the occasional interloper interrupting.

Have I reached the groove at record’s end
that leaves us turning on an endless loop,
or does the promise of a second side remain?

Working late today, listening to Roger Taylor’s ‘Outsider’ album. The record may be fairly new, but the voice is a long familiar travelling companion.
(28.03.25)

© Ben Quant 2025