FREQUENCY

At the rustle of leaves,
And snap of twigs and branches,
The wind stirred through murmurs,
turning up what was just a whisper.
And then the sound tuned into
the right frequency.

She spoke again,
Slurring—
Blurring clarity
Until some tongue
brought them into his ear.

Whoever said it?” asked he
Many lips claimed they did,
But, there was one remained immobile,
Breathing frozen air.

© Gheeneil

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