Mute

how to make sense

of a world on mute

my little brother is sobbing

in the bed beneath me,

but I cannot hear a sound

and there’s a man

by the Snelling intersection holding a sign:

“anything helps God bless”

his eyes are screaming but

no one can hear

at my grandma’s funeral

I didn’t cry once

all the pity in people’s eyes

you'd think I was holding a sign

then six months passed

I had spent them escaping

I broke down

kneeling, penitent, reaching for the remote,

asking God how he intended us to learn from life

if we can’t take back a single thing we do

and even though I can’t hear a word,

I’ll keep kneeling, I’ll keep reaching

because maybe it’s God

standing by the intersection

while all the cars drive by

I’ll be watching for a sign