.
We had every
screen door creaking
every humming
air conditioner every cricket and night owl duet.
Chorus to our ears,
in far off woods or
backyard trees, up in
too high to climb
branches
Lay still , you whispered
fingertip pressed to my lips,
so we can listen.
Far off train echoes, rolling past us
Until they faded
Then you shut your eyes
so you could hear all of the stillness it left behind
each and every note.
.
.
.
.
thanks