Hearing Things in October

 

 

At work the vents down the hall

talk about heaven and the end of the world.

We are staring at bright screens

and pretend not to listen.

On cue, they fall silent

as we head for the parking lot.

 

Those of us who live a mile or less

from the high school hear a different drummer

despite asphalt whine and the gossip of leaves.

The night before the big game

we lie in our beds with the lullaby

of a marching band leading us on

to midnight victory.

 

When the weather turns and our windows close,

the corners of every room

trap the plaster murmur of angels.

We look up to see spiders hang

in oblique shadows, their webs

fraught with September flies and halos.

 

 

Joanne Lowery’s poems have appeared in many literary magazines, including Birmingham Poetry Review, Eclipse, Smartish Pace, Cimarron Review, Atlanta Review, and Poetry East. Her most recollection is Jack: A Beanstalk Life from Snark Publishing. She lives in Michigan.