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,
It’s clear for just a few seconds,
Soundless action on the other side of a window.

I whisper I love you in the morning with the lights off
While you’re sleeping---
My voice hoarse, halting;  as if I’d been weeping---
Might as well have been a cough

We don’t feel safe without those clicks.
We don’t know if the latch really fits.
Pressing harder is ineffectual
Pull it out, jam it in: futile forced ritual
Let it relax----
Or maybe 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 where the children swim,
The cessation of splashing and waves lapping
Jolts us from our 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
And I shot upward like a dart

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 dark
I will close my eyes and find it quick


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