standing
in the not falling snow
not hearing
the voice
of god
*
the colder
it gets
the slower
the crickets
sing
*
telling it
to hush, that voice
that says
you are not
enough
*
eventually
you notice it,
like a painting
no longer there,
the chirrup gone
*
it’s so quiet
the moon
as it rises
at least so it seems
from here
*
the urge comes
to sit
the stone
beneath you
already there
like the plot-twist of the sixth listening. the initial five tell of a waiting, a noticing of something missing. the final? ahhh… the seating-stone there to accommodate your urge to sit.
also the first five are about absence, or lessening, of sound. perhaps it’s implied there’ll be sounds of creaking and groaning and huffing in the sixth, especially if it’s one of us oldsters getting into sitting position on the revealed stone(!).
Those “nots” up front are very much fun. Sets up the entire poem against the constraints of what is. I felt as if there were too many “its” in #5, but I do love how it closes. (You still have crickets — I think that’s wrong…:>)