By J.D. Smith

Sometimes the walls feel thinner than they should.
We hear the cheering when a goal is made.

        We hear as well, at night, when love is made,
        The morning after and its early music

Like other mornings and their early music.
We hear at any hour bright peals of laughter

        As things unseen provoke those peals of laughter
        And other things unseen provoke raised voices.

Two parties, often more, will raise their voices
In languages we can’t make out—but try—

        For causes that we shouldn’t know—but try.
        We wonder further at the hours of silence,

An unaccustomed echo of our silence.
Sometimes the walls seem thinner than they should.

~~~

J.D. Smith has published seven collections of poetry, most recently The Place That Is Coming to Us, and he has received Fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts and the Virginia Center for the Creative Arts. His other books include the fiction collection Transit and the essay collection Dowsing and Science. Smith lives in Washington, DC. Additional information and occasional updates are available at www.jdsmithwriter.com.