The grave yard shift

That’s what they call it

In radio

 And other lonely places

The grave yard shift

Midnight to six am

A place where people drift

When there is no place left to go

My shovel was a turntable

My hole was the one I dug with my voice

And opinions

Losing myself in thoughts

Ideas and music

Then the phone would ring

Not a ring

You can’t have a ring in

“On Air studio”

But a red flashing light

Flashes and flashes

Not be ignored

It screams

Flashing out

 Phone call

Phone call

And so many flashes later

I answer

And find a voice

A voice that still rings

Like the phone that didn’t

The voice said

 My name is Tobey

Would you play a song for me

A wonderful world happens after midnight

The creative and lonely hearts comes out

So do the strange and deranged

What a cross section of life one gets

On the grave yard shift

The musicians finishing up there gigs

Dropping by because

Where do you go after 2 am

When there is no place to go but home

And home is no place to go

We had that in common

The night people and I

Who keep the night people

Glad they are night people

Tobey neither a lonely heart

Nor a musician

Just a night soul on a quest for tomorrows meaning

And yesterday’s reasons

Just a late night soul who came to listen

Not  just to the show

But to me

And then listen some more

More about the lonely soul

Of this drifting night person

You listen to me

The real me

And through so many passages

Of my life you came to listen

Again and then

Some more

Helping me through the

The long nights of the emotional soul

The journey from one growing old

To growing older

And many years later

You listen and cared again

I guess I never really let you know

How much you made my life

A possible dream

There on the grave yard shift

A voice a dream

A clear and moving stream

Pushing time along

Your memory will go with me

 To my grave yard shift

Thank you for all that could have been

And for what was

Now and Forever

You made the hard times better




© 2012, Dan Sanders. All rights reserved.

Dan Sanders (34 Posts)

I made it through college, started at Pace in New York, family seemed to think I needed a business degree. I didn't last long, two double periods of accounting a week and I was off to N.Y. U. To make a long story short ( too late for that) I graduated from UCLA and actually, my biggest kick out of that is just saying, especially here on the east coast UCLA, but I could care less, been in Boston since 1975, though I was coming for a year or so. A very good friend at the time, she said to me "Dan you'll never leave Boston" so dear Florida “Sun Spot Baby" you're down there, been in and out of radio, TV, acting and that's me in a nut shell.


  1. Dan, I hadn’t noticed the author’s name, but when I began reading I could hear your voice quite clearly. Beautiful, gently melancholic and compassionate. Another lovely slice from the life of Dan Sanders, voice of the late night air waves.

  2. Dan Sanders (Author)

    Melody, That’s the first thing I’ve written in almost two months. I’ve had an emotional clog in multiple ways. This was almost scary to let out and still try an make it critically worthy. And funny you should say you could hear my voice, because if i still like it in a few days it will become a podcast. Thank you for the encouragement.

  3. Very Nice tribute to YOU, to Art, to life and legacy. It’s so comforting how you write and tell your story. I love the easiness and kind of country swagger.
    “I love reading you Dan” I’ll be waiting on the podcast.

  4. I felt as though I were privy to something very private…and yet…our pain is very visible to all that choose to see…. lovely and sad. Well done. I find myself wishing for a way to sooth the ache… and I cannot. I send positive energy your way. :)

  5. Dan Sanders (Author)

    Mantra, I’m not sure exactly what country swagger means , but I like it! and love the country and wish I had swagger thank you.

    Dani lovely and sad is what the situation was/is but also a life experience that I have no regrets about only a mix of sad and happy memories. It was hard to share and I so appropriate. everyone’s good words. I haven’t written very much or at all in months. It’s not writers block but it may be writers fear. Digging deep into ones life and letting it out is what poetry should be, but it is also painful. Very painful at times.

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