Twelve Hours
by Joseph Tetro
The first hour speaks so only
the smallest birds hear.
The second hour says
the sound at the door is not meant for you.
The third hour sweeps a circle of stars
into three shoes at the staircase landing.
The fourth hour brings sunlight to the clear grass
and contempt for darkness, dry and deep.
The fifth hour, rising now, sings inside the bridges
as the cars fill with their chanting.
The sixth hour sways like a sea mast
that knows where the sea fails.
The seventh hour glitters across the glass wings
of the bees and the windows of new roses.
The eighth hour is not for you or for me
but the ring of summer hands when we leave them.
The ninth hour forgives the vines
that are careless and disappear like children into the wires.
The tenth hour sets among the many streets and finds
there are no others like it that remember.
The eleventh hour gathers the voices
as they are drawn again to their narrow sleep.
The twelfth hour hears no sound but stillness
and silences all the rest.
the smallest birds hear.
The second hour says
the sound at the door is not meant for you.
The third hour sweeps a circle of stars
into three shoes at the staircase landing.
The fourth hour brings sunlight to the clear grass
and contempt for darkness, dry and deep.
The fifth hour, rising now, sings inside the bridges
as the cars fill with their chanting.
The sixth hour sways like a sea mast
that knows where the sea fails.
The seventh hour glitters across the glass wings
of the bees and the windows of new roses.
The eighth hour is not for you or for me
but the ring of summer hands when we leave them.
The ninth hour forgives the vines
that are careless and disappear like children into the wires.
The tenth hour sets among the many streets and finds
there are no others like it that remember.
The eleventh hour gathers the voices
as they are drawn again to their narrow sleep.
The twelfth hour hears no sound but stillness
and silences all the rest.
Joseph Tetro, born in New York City, lived and worked in Alaska for several years and received his MFA from the University of Alaska, Fairbanks. He is the author of "A New York Bestiary" and co-publishes Winter Light Books, which prepares and produces children's books based on folk tales from Ukraine. Currently, he volunteers with an organization that seeks to improve the conversational fluency in English of Ukrainian students.