I search for a signal
as I try to decipher
the incoming codes—
communication is sporadic at best
at worst, non-existent.
The voices that I hear are jumbled,
no clear beacon can be found.
We used to shout from room to room
unable to understand what the other was saying
yet only a step away to clarify the sound.
How quiet the house with no voice forthcoming,
how empty the heart now locked in silence
searching for wholeness in this vacuum of grief.
© Ginny Brannan 2021
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Thank you for reading my poetry and sharing your thoughts.