ANCIENT TAPE

I found a tape the other day,
Nothing special, something old;
But when it played came words
That long ago I heard you say,
Such sweet forgotten tones,
Swept on by water under bridges
Lost to count - then gone
With all the debris of the years.

How dear your voice once was,
But memory cannot yet make tangible
Those unique nuances, each dulcet strand,
As does this fragile little player
Lying in the hollow of my hand.