Poem 20151013

everything sings

the glass when you
flick the edge with your
finger, a transference
of kinetic energy

the horn of the car
laid on hard by the
irate driver who
doesn’t want to share
a lane

the ringing of the phone
as you wait for her to
pick up

the angels as they
try to stuff your soul
back into your body
because you are leaving
too soon

leaving

your soul sings

as you leave