A sense of loss
a voice pleading with me to understand,
but I can’t make out the words,
it’s important for the voice
that I listen
but I do lose interest
and watch a fly land on the kitchen table,
not finding anything of interest
it takes off again.
Now I listen to the afternoon silence
far away clatter
sounds like cups of coffee being put back on saucers.
A sense of loss
the voice is back,
it’s my son’s telling me a story eagerly,
wants me to drive him up to a mountain top seen in a book
and dreamed about ever after;
but I can’t meet him today
and his voice fades,
leaving me to enjoy this day.