There’s so much that we never hear
Or say, and so we guess —
That question you’re not asking me?
Of course, the answer’s yes
But ‘yes’ is, well, a real world thing:
It tends to up and go —
And leaves a negativity:
The ‘no’ that we all know
But in the secret shadows, we
May yet, at last confess
That thing that only whispers yield
The plaintiff, simple
‘Yes’
I’ve read this poem aloud now, several times and it simply gets better (and more nostalgic/melancholy?) each time.It is beautifully crafted and so true to life. At one time i asked you not to post your poems as your read them out loud. Now increasingly i think I’m missing something. Do you like to read them aloud? You must hear them that way, as though you were speaking.?