We can hear much better than we can see
We can hear around corners
We can hear behind us
We can hear with our eyes closed

We can hear faint whispers and loud cries
Over the sounds of the city, we hear birds in the trees

I love music and the ocean and the sounds
people make when they are having fun
But sound has become my own personal scoundrel 

In a quiet room these days
I often hear the sound of cicadas returning
In the dead of winter, those pesky summer bugs
deafen me with their courtship calls 

Around corners,
behind me,
when my eyes are closed
the constant buzzing of cicada
fills my head, invades my evenings
What a strange trick of nature that the
early road to hearing loss is a head full of noise

Sure, there’s no true silence
Even in a chamber isolated from outside sound
doctors say people hear their hearts beat
the sound of blood rushing through their veins
the high whine of their fears

I do not plan to go gently into my silent night
So far to battle the cicada song, this harbinger of hearing loss
I continue to play music and dream of the ocean
And fill my house with people having fun

~ Robin J. Phillips March 6, 2020