Preview poem from “Words and Bones” forthcoming from Finishing Line Press this summer

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.