INSIDE THE NOISE

Yes, there were coal mines, and steel mills, and factories. All of them grinding away at the edge of things–thin shudder of the earth that we lived with, echoing roar of river inside the hills. 

 It grew inside us.

 It was the sound of a furnace under the floor shaking the boards at our feet. Men and women who worked long in it dissolved to deafness, began to speak with hands. Those who lived along its edge learned to turn away.

 Birds stood on fence posts, without any necks,  or flitted close to the ground. 
 Open any window, close any door, it was there,  a slow and steady rain that fell over everything. It was a death rattle there in our chest, and our lives were clothes hanging out on the line without rest.

 Everyone knew but no one spoke.