March 10, 2014


Through the window, 
I hear voices
muffled in rain,
first sounding faint, 
then strong again.
I can't make out
what they're trying to say,
hear what they've decided 
about me today.

Sometimes they're nearer,
then fading away,
like they sounded
only yesterday, or when
I heard them, so long ago;
they roll now in waves
wherever I go, 
breaking forever
on my own private sea,
speaking as if
they were meant 
just for me.