Though you are not a fan of telephones
and much prefer mail messages to talk,
I miss your voice and its melodic tones
that blossom like a bloom does from a stalk,
but like a bloom that’s pressed so it’s preserved
long after its unfurled from its bouquet,
thankfully, I also have conserved
the music of your voice and what you say:
in my phone, voice messages are stored
for me to listen to when you can’t speak,
since when you leave a message, I record,
as lines of text can’t hold the sound I seek.
Some riches can’t be seen but can be heard:
each time you speak, I treasure every word.


Mario A. Pita

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