The Listener —Byron Hoot I pay little attention to the sound of falling leaves, birdsong, wind in the trees. I listen for the rising sound from the ground before I turn or lean my head so eyes and ears can confirm that what I hear is what I see. I have been hunting over 40 years and have come to trust the sounds from the ground. It's affected me metaphysically. Confirmed my belief in empty tombs, rebirth from the earth, the paradise of life, suspicious of one with the promise of more harmonious sounds.
2 Thoughts on “The Listener”
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This is a subtle, sweet sonnet that gives close attention to the things we so often fail to see & hear & enjoy.
Thanks. Appreciate the time and consideration.
Byron