Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Old cat’s yowl

Old cat’s yowl


father sings in a dream

broom to step
eyes still wet

from listening


Gary B. Fitzgerald said...



I recognize that sound…
that wild whisper of freedom.

No, I guess not.
Just the drone of a truck upwind
on the highway down the mountain.

But I know this sound…
that soft voice sweetly singing.

Well, maybe not.
Just the constant loud roar of the
neighbor’s brand new fountain.

Still I think can recall
the sound, remember that whisper.

Singing from long before.
The sound of alone, a song
gentle though stark.

Ah, yes…now I remember…
the wind through the pines
in the dark.

Copyright 2009 – Tall Grass & High Waves
Gary B. Fitzgerald

William Michaelian said...

Like that. Different. Less. More. After we were. Before.

Thanks, Gary.