Wish

Things you wish I heard
words that seem implausible,
like soft calls of mourning birds
or scarlet poems thread upon a spool
time stitched well and lengthily.
You have sung a world for me
no ear hears words inaudible.

Things you wish I heard,
the letters written hold that space
to keep content your heart's reward
that feathered thing, or a kind of grace,
or flowers pressed on a journal page
of Bukowski's hell dog enraged
my passion flags at the door.
Shackles poison every mind
Prisons kill every love in time.

Things you wish I heard
spend the dry days, more tears than ever dry:
concrete silence, music left hearts unstirred,
notes unwind until like butterflies
ascend to the god's deaf king.
clarity, bells, lend, cling;
such words can make you cry.

Things you wish I heard
The remembered laughter of a child,
a tune to call those mourning birds,
become poems so wild and reviled.
Suns cross the yard as souls flail
nothing to write, wire twists the mail
words can't escape, even phones won't dial.
Every spoken phrase becomes stolen breath,
each collected breath a thing to be examined.