(Poem) The Listener by Phibby Venable

I would never steal the words out of your mouth,

but I am a deceptive listener

I notice the laws of gravity when your words drop

at the end,

swoop around you where your shoulders sag

with brave intentions

Last week I took the finch that sang a broken song,

and today the wildflower seeds struggling

in the dirt of poverty

Some days I try to nudge a herd of windblown horses

into hard plowed pastures

I see them kicking rows that have hardened to ruts,

until it is all soft earth

Some days I take your breaking voice

and layer it with feathers

I am stealing with the gift of re-giving,

again and again


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