Disappearance

There’s nothing deaf
about not listening,
about taking other people’s words,
and wasting their presence
like you own them.
They just disappear.
Everything to be heard
for the last time.
A voice then is known
for the way it leaves—
action dissolves to memory
if not picked up
like some afternoon shadow.
If suddenly without words,
I come to you.

from These Hands Are Not Ours (ESAW, 2009)

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One Comment on “Disappearance”

  1. Sam Silva says:

    your poetry is always good, Jill

    Like


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