Static

In the slim hours of night
if I set the dial just so
I can hear her voice
her slight British accent hovering

between the hash marks
telling me how the bar-headed goose
migrates over the Himalayas
at astonishing altitudes.

How, by surfing a thermal
it moves up and down
up and down
riding the mountains’ contours.

She’s now whispering the story to me
and my heart beats faster
but I can’t ascend high enough.
She’s vanishing in the thin air.

Exhausted, I fall asleep.
I awake to discover her disappearance
behind a line of heavy snow
and imagine her there

on the other side
nestled into bed
tuning her dial
hoping to hear my voice.

Published by asaur