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 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…