Potting Soil

Potting Soil

The tenderness with which
a singer handles the quiet
even before the song

will slay you if you let it
into your ears, if you remind
yourself that what we hear

the song emerge from does
not count as silence.
Can true silence be heard,

what would that sound like.
We follow sound, watch
the voice sparrowing

through the song, each
breath a branch. Lift
us, we want to be carried

by a song, to be slayed,
to be taken above life, no
cumbersome dartboard ear.