Sense of Sound

Walking up and down the stairs
I knew it was Dad
or if it was Mom
entering the front door
I could tell

Tires rolling in to park
driver door opening closing
the periwinkle van
was home

A cleared throat or a sneeze
is distinctly individual
as is each voice
one curt beat on the drum

But I can hear the difference
between his and hers
his feet and hers
his sniff and hers neeze

So wondrous is a sound
its clime in memory
heard once and remembered
before and for eternity