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A collaboration over too much coffee.
coffee and pen

05 December, 2005


He won't wear a hearing aid.

He knows her refrain by heart;
The recriminations about a life
That didn't live up to expectations.

And the children whose first words
Had made a new man of him
Now growl at his inability
To keep up with the times.

And they don't play the music he knew.

And there's way too many car horns.

And the news isn't that great.
      The newsreader looks good though.
      Yes, old men can lust

And the men who knew him
when he was a boy
Are too far away to call
And, like him, don't understand this web thing.
Or they're dead.

And the memories of sound
Are the sweetest things he hears.

No, he won't wear a hearing aid.



Blogger suniti said...

Lovely :) Sooo like my Dad, who has always resisted the hearing aid. Says he likes his silence :)

07 December, 2005 14:55  
Blogger John said...

As I already said at the readmeet, excellent! I wonder what it would be like to live in the music, the pace, the anachronism of the past.

My theory is one is only as old as one feels. So I hope I don't end up feeling that way.

Or, I would be the first one to wear a hearing aid, if I need one, that is!


23 December, 2005 16:35  
Blogger scribe said...

Wonderful. Succintly into words what some of us seem to be watching in our old men - fathers, father-in-laws, uncles. I know John, I hope you don't end up feeling that way, but when the hearing slowly goes, it takes a while to find different ways to listen!

26 December, 2005 12:39  

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