Today’s poem is Rob MacWolf, who  never thought making jokes about Magic the Gathering would get him here, called “Dear Concerned Estranged”, read for you by Madison Scott-Clary, whose tail is behind her.

You’re listening to The Voice of Dog.

And today’s poem

is Rob MacWolf,

who never thought making jokes about Magic the Gathering would get him here,

called “Dear Concerned Estranged”,

read for you by Madison Scott-Clary,

whose tail is behind her.

“Dear Concerned Estranged”

a poem by Rob MacWolf

I saw that you left me a voicemail.

I noticed you sent me a card.

I know you’re expecting an answer, But finding the time is so hard.

The gods and the ghosts outside waiting,

The skies underfoot in the street,

The sunsets in sun-scented forests Where mountains are smaller than trees—

All of these things

are my life now. I’ve no time to pick up the phone.

I live everywhere

out on the highway

And the one place I can’t go

is home. There are gardens whose stillness has lasted For longer than man has had fire.

There is music that no one has mastered, And it waits for an ear to inspire.

There’s apples of gold

and of silver And glistening obsidian too.

The gold heal.

The silver grant wishes.

Who knows what the obsidian do?

There are hours in the the hours beyond midnight

That no human clock has yet known.

All these you

would have me abandon

In exchange for a chance to come home.

I think I don’t think you remember What I once had to do to survive.

I lived in the upper back cupboard.

I told all the necessary lies.

But lies cannot keep one from freezing And you lose all the taste from your tongue.

And I couldn’t keep the lies moving.

They ran out of fuel and were done.

I left them somewhere on the highway—

They’re probably still out there alone—

Then I turned around and got walking.

I knew that I couldn’t come home.

So I will be out in the sunrise In the lots where old shops were torn down.

And I will be down every alley In every forgotten town.

And I will not need your umbrella

The rains, they will do me no harm.

I’ll turn my face to the rainfall And the rainfall, it keepeth me warm.

And maybe, at the end of some autumn,

A ship will be waiting for me

Where the sun will be setting and steeping Its colors all into the sea.

I’ll say goodbye to the summer.

I’ll leave the highway behind.

I’ll take the ship,

and forever Be somewhere out there with the wind.

And that, I’m afraid,

is my answer.

It’s the only one that I own:

Even though you’ll never see me,

That's where I’ll be

finally home. This was

“Dear Concerned Estranged”

a poem by Rob MacWolfd,

read for you by Madison Scott-Clary,

whose tail is behind her. .

Thank you for listening to The Voice of Dog.