Saturday, February 26, 2011


I sometimes wonder 

in my advancing years 
if I am losing my hearing. 
People do not 
talk loud enough.  

They do not 
enunciate their words well.  

Not as loud 
and as clear 
as when 
I was much younger.  

Just about the time 
I feel that all hope is lost 
it will snow.  

The snow,
 not sleet, 
not ice, not rain,
will begin to fall 
on the metal 
around the chimney 
for the fireplace 
in my bedroom 
and I can hear 
every flake 
Flakes that are 
as light as a fairies foot.  

As light as an elf scampering 
across my roof.  

As light as an imp 
trying to get in 
to do mischief.  

And then and only then 
am I reassured 
that all is well with the world 
and that I can,
in fact, 
hear once again 
as a young man.

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