Sierra July
A rock skips
A cry breaks
With water’s
ripple
The sound
resonates
A bird carries it,
another
Passing from beak
to beak like fruit
Ripe, ceremonious
Lost on two sets
of ears
Deaf on the ground
Poet’s Notes: I wrote this imagining two people
having an argument in some remote location, where they think no one will hear,
and having the sound carry further than they can imagine. Of course, the two
won’t know that their words are being passed in birdsong, a language they can’t
understand.
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