Springs and Lisa

Riding in the truck today, we heard a familiar sound.

The springs in the seat were squeaking in a rhythmic pattern.

I knew where I had heard that sound before.

It was a sound recognized by both of us.

The sound of bed springs moving rhythmically together.   

You and I moved the bed springs that way to play symphonies.

I was the conductor.

You, the sheets of music.     

Do you remember those days my Mona Lisa.

D. Randall Dollaway

30 December 2025

Reviews

[Thomas W Case]

Man, this hits like a memory you can almost touch. There’s humor, warmth, and just a little edge in how you bring those days back—like the past is alive in that rhythm. Sharp, tender, and real all at once.

[Randall]

Thanks, Thomas. Memories can be held in the smallest sounds. It helps if you have an old truck, also.