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Two Tanka
by Patrick T. Randolph

My Wife’s Voice

Her voice—liquid time
Dripping across centuries
Inside my ears’ soul;

Each pure moment is perfect,
I listen: “Time for dinner!”

Phone Call at 39 Mixed with Memory

Ma’s voice on the phone:
Something in its melody,
Its touch in my ear—

My eyes hold vivid pictures,
Ma laughs, sunshine on her nose.





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