It was on whispered winds that the signal first danced,
an electric murmur amidst autumn's glow.
"Remember when the leaves sang?"
Tangled in wires, nestled in tubes of vintage glow,
memories of spring showers drip through circuitry.
"And yet, the radio promised clear skies."
A jigsaw of once-familiar voices,
a collage of misplaced echoes reverberate.
"I think I saw you by the riverbank."
Fleeting images of laughter
beneath the glow of neon rain.
Where time slips through the cracks of forgotten frequencies,
a symphony of static sings a lullaby.