the beeping of the bus

as the wheelchair ramp lifts back up

the grinding whir of the coffee shop espresso machine

and the loud hiss of the milk steamer

and my name called over the din

the way a multitude of people speaking

weaves into one cacophonous

but oddly lulling, humming voice

shouts of greeting

echoing down the school hallways

the sudden silence

when the air conditioner at work

turns off for the winter

snippets of conversation caught as people shoulder past

on a crowded sidewalk

the distinctive airplane “ding”

on the flight to see my parents

music reaching down the block

from a nearby summer festival

the clatter of plates and cutlery

as many dine together

the squealing of children at a neighborhood park

the reverberating pulse of voices

singing together in worship

my friend’s words,

coming from the living room,

as I bring in a cup of tea

sound moves slower than light, they say,

and I’ve seen this confirmed

the one thousand times I’ve looked up

to find the airplane already passed

and maybe

the light at the end of the tunnel

is closer than we realize

we can’t hear the sounds of After—

not yet—

but they are already on the way

Cassidhe Hart is an eight-year resident of Evanston whose work has been commissioned for events such as the Why Water Matters Summit and the Evanston Interfaith Climate Action Summit. Her writing has also been featured in Collegeville Institute’s Bearings Online and in an Advent publication for Chalice Press. Find more at https://cassidhehart.wordpress.com/.