Her Voice

Her Voice

Tonight I sat down

at the kitchen table

and lit a cigarette

to take a short rest

from the days work.

It was quiet

around our home.

Nala, my nieces

dog lay on the floor,

Mao-Mao, our white cat

sat by my chair.

A storm was brewing

and I could hear the wind

in the trees outside.

Back in the bedroom

I could hear my wife

talking on the phone

with her sister.

Even though I've heard

over the last twenty-five years

her conversations

ten-thousand times before.

I was suddenly struck

once again at how much

I enjoy hearing her lilting voice.

You know, some things

just never get old.

I've listened to her talk

for half my lifetime

and gladly will

enjoy hearing her voice

for the second half too.

She is my mate

and her voice improves

upon the beauty of the Earth

like the gentle rain

on the window at night

or a songbird

singing in the trees.

Her life, her love, her voice

are worth all the world to me

Dewey Dirks