As chatter evaporates,
The poet first-up begins to read;
As poetry speaks,
Ears listen.

And, thus, the fight for total concentration begins,
Closed-lips the discipline,
Whether the piece of writing
Can be comprehended by all or not.

Though minds may wander,
Ears still listen.
The reading continues
And the listeners position and budge,
Reviving a fixed concentration.

One has eyes open
Staring at the burr-burr carpet.
Someone else shuts their eyes,
Wrinkling them with a thinker’s strain,
Or is it thinking going on in that brain?

Another listener with head bowed low
Prays through the reading,
Asking for what line
To walk away pondering
Or what poetical form “stands out.”

A sincere ending,
And the room harmonizes hums,
The best kind of response,
For its noise reminds the reader
That there was interest at all,
Yet no vocabulary in the responsorial hum,
For a listening poet should know better:
An author’s poem belongs to that author’s imagination.