He hides an angel's voice behind cracked lips
and a chipped tooth he could not afford to fix.
Lays tile, frames your house, shingles the roof
all while the radio plays melodies he wanted
to sing to swaying crowds in the evenings.
Hammer, nail, table saw, and two–by–four
but what he dreams is rhythms and rhymes.
From time to time, you can find his heart's
desires as he carries lumber and hums a
sweet song the world has never heard before.
Isabel Sylvan lives along the Raritan Bay where she writes both poetry and fiction. Her work has appeared in numerous small presses throughout the past twenty years. Currently, she is the editor of Poetry Breakfast a daily online poetry journal.