Sunday, July 30, 2017

Sunday Poem

Sound is a Wave

Love is when everything seems to fit,
To slide together with a locking click.
I remember that sound from long ago,
But it dulls and deadens,
Resonates for just a few seconds.

I whisper I love you in the morning
With the lights off
While you’re sleeping,
My voice hoarse and halting
As if I’d been weeping
Or trying to stifle a cough.

We don’t feel safe without those clicks.
We don’t know if the latch actually fits.
Pressing harder is ineffectual.
Pull it out, jam it in: futile forced ritual.
Maybe let it all relax
Or just give it some more slack.

These little assurances are found lacking;
These sounds, these gurgling forest brooks.
An unexpected silence is menacing and grim;
A suddenly quiet pool while the children swim,
The cessation of splashing and waves lapping
Jolts us from our summer books.

Underwater is the sound of my own beating heart.
I used to hold my breath as long as I could and listen,
The surface world muffled and dulled and distant.
I never wanted to return.
But my chest tightened and burned
With a deafening arrhythmic agony
That silences all notions of vanity.

If you drop your ring in the deep end I’ll find it.
It will strike the bottom with a tiny click.
Sound is a wave that travels to my heart.
I will find it in the deep blue dark.
I will close my eyes and find it right quick.


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