Invisible Pulse

On a dusty shelf it rests
the invisible beat of a forgotten radio,
pulsing through the silent wires of the waves.
It transmits lost dreams of the city,
the shop window that never closes,
the deserted stop that still waits.
Every frequency restores faded faces and promises,
a choir of bicycles, stumbling clocks,
a postponed kiss that lingers in the air.
If you listen for long, the radio responds
with a breath of iron and silk,
and the city finds its lost dreams again.