Watcher

The boy moves through a silence without sound,
Flitting to windows, nose to pane, trying
To stare and stop drapes from moving.
He freezes to the sounds of laughter,
Music touching, holding, rooting. For
A moment a guest looks up in a drunken laugh
- Gazes collide - but do not lock.
the boy vanishes back, voice a pale silent sound
And the woman assumes a ghost;
Her hosts never mentioned a son.

The boy curls up in
The comfort of shadow
Noises - always voices -
Whispers: "They know.
They'll find out." Creaking
Laughter. "You were seen."

"But not heard," the boy says,
Defiant raw whisper a shout
Jolting him: his heart cracks
The cage of his ribs, panting,
And there was weaving footsteps
In the hallway, searching, slowing,
But there was nothing there
For them to find: only a whisper
That, heard, could now never be seen.