Hanging Fire

Hanging fire.
An old dusty player
The best in the world
Played across the screen
Some downfall of the world
One based on all the others
Single, large and glazed
Reflecting an old room
The eye of the century
Chiaroscuro, sat an old man in an armchair
The speech of this player was strange
Simple Science Fiction of the late sixties
The first real signs of alien life
Come visiting when we were young
Important he said
An event in history
Then there was old music
Before electronics
Old groups

The darkness of the room was all wood
Rare wood
The man sat in baroque darkness
The man spoke
He said
There are no great musicians anymore
And then later
This music has many many memories for me
The screen flashed as he pointed at it
He stroked the cat on his lap
Four eyes flashed
As a light faded from across the room he began to hear voices