A masculine voice
weakly said “hey.”
He must have known
instinctively I didn’t
know who was calling.
He apologized for the
lack of strength in his voice,
told me who he was as soon
as he took his next breath.
I can hear him fading
a little more.
Just like the first time
ever I’d heard his voice,
flocks of crows gathered
whispering, in nearby trees.
A day very much like today..
I’m not sure,
was it Autumn when I met him?
Has it been two years
or three?
Such a new friend.....
still, I can't imagine
life without him.
Joyce Chelmo
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/crows-gather-whispering/
