The book I read
to her
back in the summer
of then
when she was ten
She now reads
to her own little boy.
“This book
was always your voice.”
“I can only hear it
in your voice.”
”How I clung
to every word
every pause! ”
You were
such a nice man.
You made me like men.
I didn’t ‘til then.
I laugh.
Listen to her read
to her little boy
in my voice.
Dónall Dempsey
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-book-in-my-voice/
