Hearing

Beneath the drumming of my own,
I hear the heartbeat of the worm.

I, sometimes, hear what I can't see:
the sighing sounds of broken bones,
one bubble bursting in a sea of foam--
within this truth, I seem to know
the absolutes of eternity.

But, I do not hear the world I see:
the truth of things wherever they be,
the useful words which feel their way--
I do not know what, mean, they.
I do not hear the world I see.

J.D. Heskin

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