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.