Love her to bits and pieces,
Hearing is impossibe down the hall,
Like Upstairs Downstairs,
Across a room,
Up a tree,
Down in the cellar,
Riding on the moon,
A a Rockerfellers dinning table,
From one end if a trailer to the tother,
Whether French or Spanish,
All this sixty-three year old,
Me hears is ‘muffle, muffle in varing degrees’,
Saying yes is wrong,
Saying no stupid,
So I yell just a minute,
Stop,
Rise,
Knowing she too only.heard,
Muffle,muffle, muf-,
We live in a can,
Pity can string phones are no longer used,
At least I get a we bit of cardi excersise,
Shes worth rising for,
When shes gone I wll,
Stop, listen, hear nothing,
Go and make sure,
Then cry back to my office,
Missing even the muffle voice,
Shes not dying just going home to Macon,
Her mom and dad still live,
Lucky duck,
Ill see her every night in my dreams,
Call her every night,
Move when can to NC or Tenn.
No matter her age or mine,
My spirit wants my last breath to fall upon her.
Val's Whitewolf Books 