Guest Poem by Sue Spiers

Sue Spiers lives in Hampshire, UK. Her poems have appeared widely in print and on-line including Acumen, The North and Ink, Sweat & Tears. Sue works with the Winchester Poetry Festival, spoken word group Winchester Muse and edits the annual anthology of the Open University Poetry Society. Sue tweets @spiropoetry.

Jealous of the Listening Air

She tells me her deafness is more complete,
no sound penetrates her ears, masks are difficulties.

Imperfect silence of devices switched off but still
outside chunters; car engines, birdsong, the wind.

Conversation in another room with no definite words
but the murmur of concern and humour’s high cackle.

The first restaurant visit, after, ablaze with chatter –
waves of talk battering the mouths I strain to read.

Ripples in the air rise and fall in each breathing
at night when worn ballcocks judder in refilling.

A poet sends mellow tunes of intricate syncopation,
asks for opinion, attention to the music and lyric.

Normal for my age; years of amplified concerts
and factory machinery launch silence as a predator.