Old men’s ears hang
large and lobed
against grey heads filled with
life’s knowledge.
The words they hear
formed by past years,
echos of experience,
a flood of life.
Old women’s voices,
caress those ears,
accost those ears,
fill those ears
with memories of
dreams once drempt
in young men’s minds.
Don’t box those ears,
outfox those ears,
remember years
of sound have filled them.
A child's laugh,
a lass's gaffe:
True music to those ears.
No comments:
Post a Comment