Troubadour 21 (Online) Sept. '09
I hear voices and sometimes
I tell her that I’m hearing them
and she says Nonsense, tells me
I’m singing to myself again.
She tells me that she’s never
known me otherwise,
loves me as I am, voices
no concern whatsoever.
She says I seem happy enough
most of the time, seem
sometimes ready for a jig or
sometimes, in the morning
–even before coffee—
she hears me singing out loud
out in the doughy kitchen,
hears me practicing lines, hears
me in my office clicking away
at the keyboard, singing.
Would you have it any other way
she asks. The way she asks
tells me she knows the answer.