Terese Svoboda


The Listener - Poem by Terese Svoboda

The silence water makes,
and waterfowl on their mark.

A made loneliness,
its stream runs uphill.

The dropped stone in water,
the cars in their circles.

Reflecting the bridge,
a skein of doubt.

And water tumbles down.
You had to open it.

A mad loneliness.
You had to, you had to.

Waves die, their reach is
not what it was, when it is.

You drive the wind
with the windows rolled.


Comments about The Listener by Terese Svoboda

  • Rookie S. A. S. (12/12/2006 5:47:00 PM)

    this is one of those poems that you get a feeling for, but you can't quite explain it

    you can listen but not say it back again (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, December 12, 2006

Poem Edited: Wednesday, December 8, 2010


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