When The Music’s Over

Written for dVerse Poetics –“I’d Rather Go Blind”
hosted this week by Melissa. The focus is to
choose one of the five senses and write a poem
exploring what life experiences might be like
without that sense. This is my response.

The needle drops, but Revolver won’t play.
No Harrison guitar that bends and weeps.
No Etta James telling it like it is.
No Spoonful song about a hot summer day.
I’d see the vinyl spin, a silent circle,
my foot still tapping out a phantom beat,
the memory of sound my only measure.

Your voice becomes a shape your mouth makes,
gestures blooming where the words should be.
I’d learn to read the crinkle near your eyes
that means you’re laughing,
watch your shoulders shake,
but never hear that brightness break the air,
the joy that used to fill the room like light.

The phone’s a relic now.
No leaning back to hear my friend work through
her tangled day,
no catching up across the miles.
Instead, I’d text her, but lose the warmth,
the pauses where she’s thinking,
that small sigh before she speaks the thing
she needs to say.

And you, my darlings, almost grown
I’d see you tell of scoring goals,
your favorite band’s new song,
the thrill of taking curves on backroads,
windows down.
Your eyes would dance with stories
I can’t hear, your laughter silent
when Grandpa cracks a joke.
I’d watch you talk, but miss the voice,
the sound of who you’re becoming, note by note.

NAR© 2026

This is “I’d rather Go Blind” by Etta James

I’d Rather Go Blind

All text and graphics are copyright for Nancy Richy and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.