Audible in a microphone
the white static behind a voice
reciting news on statehouse steps.
A dog groan down the chimney,
a clank of loose gutter,
but when you try to find the words,
they sslit, ssts with s’s
susurrus
rustle leaning into a leaf
and psithurism with silent p
taken hold from Greek for whisper,
a collective
for symphonies in pine trees in March.
—
Tricia Knoll is a Vermont poet who maintains a number of gardens – for butterflies, vegetables, and pollinators. Her work appears widely in journals and nine books, including One Bent Tree which highlights trees she has planted, loved, or worries about. triciaknoll.com
