Its been almost a year since I last posted a poem. The latest one is about noise and the speed of it. Remember playing the telephone game. Most of the time we did not say the original message. I think that's because we hear everything around us. Everything but what the original person said. Take a second to hear the original mesage
game of telephone
by Becca Joy
I always hear a question asked
what’s the latest one by chance
Playing a game of telephone
for an answer lost and found
among all the sounds I heard
when I listened more closely
Standing still one morning
footsteps going everywhere
car radio turned off
will the birds greet me
more wind rushes by
driver’s side door is now closed
checking to see money, jingle
what’s next to listen for?
Blink before pictures taken
hello becomes many conversations
a video before it gets uploaded
I walk out of a nearby store
Snack wrapper crinkles open
where has the quiet been hiding
far away from dog barks
and whirl of modern works
Pulling out airpods quickly
taking a breath — audiobook cued
hearing only one thing: a chapter
daydreams of outer stars and fireflies
slower speeds of noise and sound
did I hear the first message correctly?
