I was listening to the man,
the voice of reason,
the troubadour of my youth,
I was curious,
how it is he manages to find his
words,
word.
Seems we all need to have a time
when we might recognize
there’s a lot more beyond our own,
sympathy,
we’re all just about as tangled up in
trying to come to terms
who it is we are, want to be, should become,
have to provide,
need to figure out,
find a way,
or do we only wish the others,
those beyond our words,
do we only realize when it is in the final hours
some autumn calls,
that we are,
really in our solemn manner,
coming to terms with
listening,
listening to the man.