The song is more sorrowful
when you listen for the third time.
I heard it the first time
when I picked you up
on a mixtape you played me.
I had forgotten the melody
until the second time,
when it slipped into the elevator
in the form of easy listening
between floors, and I called you
after many years not hearing you laugh.
The third time it was after you passed
away, and it had been listed in your program.
The notes poured out of the speakers
to the rhythm of our tears,
and I bought the band’s greatest hits,
so I could play it on long drives home.