What the Ear Said
to hear in that hollow. Not boats,
not the cadence of boats and their oars.
Not wood and water and the
to island in a storm, not rain. Not
the repetition of rain and the often loved
trees. Or the sea.
Or the open mouth receiving. Not the lean
of the grief-struck against an ox-cart or
of the dog caught in that rain. Again
the sound of the heart in the throat, and the too soon
lapse of breath. Again the beat of the foot
against the floor--the speech of the bed-creak
or the priest.
Not to hear a cloak or some ghost.
Not moon. Not door. Not the entered shoes of a beautiful
and her door, her moon.