BOTH SIDES, NOW

When I was ten,
I loved a song
About clouds
I played it on repeat

Again and again,
The phonograph needle
Wove a bumpy ride over
The grooves in my 45-rpm record

Three minutes and seventeen seconds
The needle steered itself
Towards the center spindle
Then the arm lifted, returned to its home

And dropped back at the lip of the record
to start again

Three minutes, on end,
I listened as Judy trilled about clouds
Filled with dreams,
Fluffy white clouds

That so many afternoons
In my youth
I used as a backdrop
To my daydreams

Long hot summers
Lying on the grass in my backyard
Envisioning shapes like those
Ice cream castles and feathery canyons

Until storms rolled in,
Those visions turned dark
And the clouds
Only blocked the sun

In the stillness of the night,
Back in my bedroom
Hour after hour,
I listened and pondered

Clouds and life and love
My curious young mind
Straining to understand
Both sides

I’m nearing seventy
And I still listen when I’m depressed
To Judy or to Joni
To those lyrics that have

Followed me through decades
The meaning ever evolving,
Gaining more relevance
As I age

The nuances of life
The dichotomy of being
The yin and the yang
The ecstasy and the agony

Tuesday, I lost sight of
The ice cream castles and feathered canyons
Because now the clouds
Completely block the sun

Of a nation

It’s difficult to see both sides, now
In the darkness before
the impending storm
But I’ll play the song on repeat and

I’ll try.

I’ll try.

I’ll try.