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.
