A Little Voice From My Past

When I hear your voice calling,
calling, 'Mama, mama please'
It's then I come a running
and get down on my knees.

I know I hear your voice.
It's calling to me now.
I don't know where you are baby
but I hear your voice somehow.

In my head I hear you.
Your voice is all that's left.
I keep it in my memory,
I am so bereft.

Please let your little voice
so little and so small
call 'Mama, mama please, '
so your voice I can recall.

poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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