Monday, August 25, 2008


I was walking past this house yesterday and heard a baby crying. This wee poem came to me on the way home.

Crystal Clear

My scratchy head
tunes to a long-forgotten
sweet spot on the dial,
as, from an open sash
above a busy street,
a newborn voice informs
a weary world
he’s tired.

Reception's lost as soon
as they discover speech.


Blogger BarbaraS said...

That is so true, in the last line!

2:03 pm  

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