A certain ring

Not only is my smartphone listening
to every word

there is the Universe
(which must receive so many messages
the black box is always full)
-proof-

of echoes, ripples, whole
motes of dust
in Brownian motion
waving.

I mentioned the name as it came to me.
My daughter likes the little names
I give other peoples pets.
                    A name that starts with a B
she says to me-
Baxter
                    Baxter! The woman calls
yanking the leash,
                    C'mon, she pleads.

Of course much has changed besides
my voice, my tone, my hair, my skin,
and I need to start over-
and I need a wage
when
a dear old friend calls me out of the
grey,
to catch up, to ask a favor, to present
an opportunity.

Meanwhile, my daughter and I attend a lecture,
I worry she will be bored, get lost in the
terminology,
so I compare thee
Nobel to Oscar
at the Academies

There the man of the hour,
Professor, Author, Scientist, Poet, mentor
mentions the film industry
as an analogy

Have you ever seen a one-man show?

You know
somewhere, someone
is listening
to a podcast, to music, to poetry, to birds,
to the running water
for a sign of life.

The signal dissipates
not hitting any home.

Evidently-
the Universe reads our clouds.




 Painting by Sophie Anderson (1823-1903), 'Birdsong' in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.