The Moya View

Tag: son

  • An Endless Telephone Call

    An Endless Telephone Call

    I knew this pulse had traveled thru spacewith a shivery speedto reach this felt sole,these five yards of ancient twisted wires that gave it sound-striking its bell three times in mournful bursts.it was too early to hear the good news of friends.Yet, even not quite awake,I knew between the sounds of hello and goodbye my…

  • My Mother’s Sounds

    My Mother’s Sounds

    I am not your dying son, I thought, as my wife gave me the diagnosis, remembering my mom in her dying chair.   I will not pass into final memories watching the Pope in America. “Bless me, Papa”, will not be my last words.   I do not believe in my mother’s God though He…