Listen

Sometimes in the cold wind there is a voice
stronger than a whisper but still, somehow, less palpable
than all the breathless noise
that echoes in the dark room
in the endless hours
between conversations.
Sometimes in the still night there is a sound
that makes us all seem less solitary
(if we listen)
not a word;
just, the tail-end of a dream
too close to forget
and too far away to touch