Some say the streets were silent

Sirens aside

But we 

Disagree

We heard the wind

Make instruments of branches

And garbage lids.

We heard birds.

More birdsongs than we knew how

To name

We heard windows struggle open

After winters stuck

We heard neighbors lullaby 

Themselves to sleep

All night through and

Long past sunrise

Some say the hours were

Wasted

Nothing to do

No sight to see

No one to touch

We agreed then too

But we are wise now

We have learned how

To touch the world 

Without fear

It is simple 

If you listen

Across the body

Dwell countless fingertips

More than the ten digits of 

The long-gloved hands

If you listen

The storm against the 

Shut door humming

In its frame

Is much like the lover’s 

Thumb tracing the 

Bones of the face.

Inside the ears

Live countless fingertips

If you listen

and listen

and