Preview poem from "Words and Bones" forthcoming from Finishing Line Press
Whispered
Silence
by LB Sedlacek
He moved his lips this morning.
There was no sound, but I’d
turned it down, but when I
turned it up all I could hear
was the hum of the signal.
It was faded and blocked by the trees
and those eyesore cell phone
towers that never send a signal
when you need it.
I whacked the
TV but that didn’t help. My
eyes seized on a caption that
explained why there was no
sound. I took
my cell phone
and whacked it on the counter.
I dropped it in the sink to see
if it would float.
I dropped
one in a toilet two years
ago and it sank like my
hand did when I spotted a
fish and tried to grab it.
His lips keep moving and I
watch them transfixed.
I look
up “transmogrification” in
the dictionary and think there
are more words than I could
ever imagine that start with
“ex.” I stare
at his mouth,
his beard, his curly black
and white hair and realize
that I heard every word.
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