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| sounds: she said, it's like perfect pitch: musicians can place all noise, door slam, footstep, on the musical scale, it's just wavelength so, everything they hear a note.� a poet like that can hear all things, all noise, as words, as thought, place them in notation on a page.� we were on the porch and lightning, then thunder, behind her, and I remembered how if you count the time between flash and rumble (the impatience of light with sound) you can measure the distance away.� I thought: I can measure the time between this thought now in her face, and how long before she says it, and know how far away from me she is.�� | ||