You say my messages did not get through
What sound do messages make as they
lose themselves in the ether
glissando diminuendo
What is the sound of my lost language
I hear a lilt and dive, music only
yr hen iaith fy nhadau
a few passwords clicking from the keys
If I had said the things I wish now
that I had said, what would have been
the tone of her voice in answer
What did her smile sound like
I don’t remember, she is so quiet
in her photograph, black and white, gazing off
What is the sound of a leaf falling
What kind of ear could hear it
as it shivers the air and slides down the wind
tremulo and thrum, pick-pick
the same as the grass growing but in reverse
What was the last call of the last ivory-billed woodpecker
over the ordinary check-check twitter shrill peep
at dusk the end of November
First published in Triggerfish Critical Review, no. 24 (2020)
Maura High 