My Voice Is Still Here - Visitor's Poem

by Phyllis Lucas
(Denver, CO, USA)

My voice is still here
Said my father
My father, whose voice has not been here for
three years.
My voice is still here.
I had phoned, and he answered.
One bright, sunny morning
A Saturday.
I needed to hear your voice.
My voice is still here
Said my father.
Still here.
Is your voice still here?
On bright and sunny mornings
I sometimes think I hear it.
I hear it in the quiet of the wind,
in the tiptoe of the dawn,
when I lay awake, dreaming awake.
Of the day I called and you answered the phone.
My voice is still here
Said my dad.
My voice is still here.