No Walls of Stone
A Wish, Unheard
Once I saw him sitting in his crowded office from a new distance.
Coworkers were laughing, giggling almost, beside his huge window:
a view of the world grew shimmering through the morning glass.
There were the usual skyscrapers, throngs of shoppers, impatient cars.
As with anything else, he'd ceased to notice; it had always been his.
He doubled over in laughter while others tossed in more jokes.
He did not have to lipread or ask for a rewind: I wanted to sliver
off my ears–forgetting I could catch only so much–and
give him my bloodied ears on a satin pillow and say,
Here. All this is my life.
Copyright 1992 by Raymond Luczak.