The Strange Ear*

There is something mysterious
About radio static
That space between stations.
Its hiss feels personal.
It has presence.

Perhaps the radio
Is listening
To me!

I lay on my bed
With mystery
My mate
Wondering at the strange ear
Tuned to my frequency.

So far it has said nothing
Nor have I addressed it.
We share the air
Dwelling together
In the vague shush of time.

* I can read your mind...you're thinking I should seek help. If the radio ever does speak through the static, I assure you, I'll find a therapist with a comfy couch to explore my dementia.