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Recorded for Poem-a-Day, November 24, 2017
About this Poem 
“The loved ones we lose to time—family, friends, mentors, students, neighbors, lovers—remain with us in our thoughts, a part of the fabric of our selves. ‘Morning Voices’ is a poem of mourning and morning, of mourning for those lost to us in the flesh of their being, of awakening to the way they remain with us nonetheless, in the weave of who we are, speaking to us at the start of another gifted, noisy morning.”
—Ed Falco
 

Morning Voices

This morning’s raucous quiet: din of a lawnmower
     Pulse-like swell of cicadas chattering in the brush
           Trucks grumbling along a nearby highway.
 
Under a sea of high thin clouds, a sheer ocean of sky
     The dead are islands: an archipelago
          Of mute echoes, of resonant silence
 
Their voices still within this gorgeous commotion—
     Crow call, water burbling, wind rough in trees—
          In a weed’s play, against skin, in the heart’s vibrations.
 
Under the racket of this day’s distractions
     Under the birds’ clamorous singing
          Under lapping waves of noise
 
Their stopped tongues their stilled voices speaking.
 

Copyright © 2017 by Ed Falco. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on November 24, 2017, by the Academy of American Poets.

Copyright © 2017 by Ed Falco. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on November 24, 2017, by the Academy of American Poets.

Ed Falco

Ed Falco

Ed Falco is the author of Wolf Moon Blood Moon, forthcoming from Lousiana State University Press in December 2017.

by this poet

poem
The words we use to instill a sense of the ineffable
Carry us on a journey that’s mysterious
As if your car makes a sudden left turn and accelerates
A child in the road leaps into her mother’s embrace
A deer becomes a child and you hit the brakes
The panjandrum in the driver’s seat this befuddled guy
At the
poem
We were crossing a wide beach toward a blacktop parking lot.
I forget now who I was with or where we were going the year
The details of that particular beach vacation that summer break.
Morning not long after sunrise the day already hot.

In the parking lot six women wrestled a package of sorts
Emerged from the