The pressure of a wheel turning on soft gravel,
a window sliding open. What sound is made
when something slips away and the hand closes
and opens on nothing but cool air in its wake?
The man stirs in the dark and sees the fog
caught in the treetops, the water beyond
just beginning to catch the light as it rises.
He’s restless, or he’s preoccupied with worry.
It begins to rain but he takes his bike
out of the garage, thinking he might follow
the distant chirping of quarry trucks to their source.
It’s early, and even the dog won’t go. Too early
for the dog; it won’t go, but watches him
pedal away in the rain to try to trace the sounds
that roused him, back to their source— not birdsong
though a restless wingbeat rises in the air, and the light
begins to catch at the edges of water. It passes
like fog through the treetops, through his hair;
it passes like a hand closing and opening. That’s
the heart missing what it wants to hold fast.
Look out the window— flicker of narrow
tires on the road; rain, soft earth, loose stones.
In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.
OTHER POSTS IN THE SERIES
- Aperture
- Familiar
- Landscape, with Ruby-Throated Hummingbird
- Prognosis
- Listings
- Grenadilla
- El Sagrado Corazon
- Consolation
- Three (More) Improvisations
- Reconnaissance
- The Gift
- Goldfinch in the Garden
- Talon
- What Cannot Eat
- Happiness
- Ode to the Heart Smaller than a Pencil Eraser
- Defense
- Petition to Fullness
- Heart you Want to Lead in from the Cold
- Unending Lyric
- Trace
- Prospecting
- Dear modest four-bedroom, two-and-a-half bath
- Shit
- Ode to the Pedicure Place at the Mall
- Defiler
- Letter to Attention
- Real
- Discordant
- Dowsing
- Landscape, with Incipient Questions
- Letter to Stone
- Orison
- Milagrito: Eye of the Raven
- Epithalamium
- What You Don’t Always See
- Going to the Acupuncturist in the Market
- Aubade
- Migrant Letters
- The Road of Imperfect Attentions
- In the Country of Lost Hours
- Morning Lesson
- Reprieve
- Song of the Seamstress’s Daughter
- Landscape, with Construction Worker, Ants, and Gull
- End Times
- Dream Landscape, with Ray-bans and Leyte Landing
- Pantoum, with Spiderweb and Raindrops
- Assassin’s Wake
- Shroud Villanelle
- Dear Annie Oakley,
- Landscape, with Red Omens
- Late Summer Landscape, with Twilight and Daughters
- Ghazal of Unattainable Silence
- Try
- Occasional
- Distance, Then
- Turning
- Noon Prayer
- Acompañamiento
- In the Convent of Perpetual Adoration
- State of Emergency
- Storm Warning
- Charms
- Goodbye, Irene
- The Lovers
- Currents
- Dream of the Four Directions
- Chainus
- Lost Lyric
- Dear recklessness, dear jeweled
- Gleaning
- Bearing Fire
- The Summer of the Angel of Death
- Veneer
What sound is made/when something slips away and the hand closes/and opens on nothing but cool air in its wake?
My poem response at:
http://albertbcasuga.blogspot.com/2011/06/unheard-sound.html