The Voice of an Angel

She doesn't mind
the ringing in her ears
because it teaches
compassion,
but not like a beggar
who feeds scraps to dogs,
it is more like a sharing,
a touching of life
underground.

And so there it is,
as she twists her hair tight
and ties it in knots,
she is waiting
or so it would seem,
but nobody knocks
and the phone on the table
is never picked up.

There is only the sun
drifting outside her window
and the attendant
who brings trays of food,
washes her face
before helping her
sit up in bed
and tucking her sheets
around her legs.

A duty, checked off a list
as he leaves her
alone
with only vibrations,
an inaudible voice
describing
a sound in a forest
that is wrapped up in paper
and given as a gift.