Sent: 10/2/2002 12:48 PM
Can they hear me?
Without the trumpets of scholarly
masters' names beside mine
on this blank empty page
Will they read me?
Minus the green, ivy covered stones
with many varying degrees
of filtered Sonlight strown
Call I sound them?
Much like the tall oak tree falling
quite softly quiet
in doves' fluttered silence
Only God knows.
* * *
Even muted whispers' ripples echo.
