Voice-less “When the dawn comes tonight will be a memory too.... and a new day will begin”

( with thanks to Andrew Lloyd Weber, Steven Sondheim, 

and to the memory of my father )

The days slip away
hour by hour, minute by minute, second by second.

The longer passed… the easier to remember
the scents, the sounds;
except for voices…

I can’t recall my father’s voice.

I can recognise voices I haven’t heard in just as long
but to just recall his in my mind’s ear… I can’t.

Events, conversations, stories, visual memories seem sharp
even from a childhood long gone;
some more vague, embellished or diminished when reminiscing…
but not his voice.

The details are all there
the arguments, the trips, the late-night discussions;
our frustrations and successes, our desires and our dreams.

I remember them all
the advice, and admonishments
the battles neither won;
and yet his words are there…
but still no voice.

Ronda R. Scott-Marak
© 6 February 2015