Aural Love

Sometimes it’s not

what you say --it

is only your voice

that I hear.

And it is not

my deafness or

poor listening skills.

It is just that the sound

of your voice is enough.

Yes --you are right.

I am writing this

about you! I am

a visual learner,

but an aural lover.

I adore the sound of

your voice. I shiver

in the hills and valleys

of your tonal range.

Your words thrill

like fireflies in the

celestial regions

of my brain.

Then, gone!

I can not capture

or hold them –

nor would I.

Keep

speaking

I’m closing

my eyes.

For Lou with love

You're Gone Again

You're gone again...

another plane

to catch

before sunrise

before my eyes

are re-delighted

with your smile.

On our front porch,

potted pansies brag

up their little faces

what they know of

Spring and promises.

While hyacinths are deciding

which perfume to release,

you pass back yard daffodils

wearing nothing underneath

their see-through yellow costumes

heads bobbing, in garden gossip.

Forsythia bushes stretch their

freshly blooming stems

towards still-bare trees

above, sketching the sky.

As you glance through

the garage window,

Buddha sees you off,

his unconditional

peacefulness, his loyal

presence and friendship

solid as ancient stone.