Wait,
what was that?
Nothing. Only the sound
of darkness
creaking on the stairs.
Wait,
what was that?
Nothing. Only the sound
of my voice,
I talk to myself
for I know I will listen.
Well, most of the time....
Wait,
what was that?
Nothing. Only the sound
of the wind
as it slips through my fingers.
Wait,
what was that?
Nothing. Only the sound
of ripples, touch the water,
ripples of time go ever on,
never come back,
what's on the other side?
Wait,
what was that?
Nothing. Only the sound
of lovers playing
in my memory,
the sound of
the laughter of my youth,
or perhaps
the resounding echo of dreams.
or maybe,
maybe it was
the silent creeping
of age
casting it's greedy shadow
upon my sidewalk.
1992
(Note:The structure of this poem is meant to be with all lines centered-as with many other poems in my collection, the structures range with centering, spacing of words or phrases, etc..However this site seems to only allow a straight left hand margin format, thus many of my pieces are unable to appear in the sructure/format they are intended to be in-G.J.)
