The Poet's Ear

Eleanor, who was shopping in town with her mother, found a poet’s ear lying on the ground. She knew it was a poet’s ear because it had been reported missing on the news. A reward had been offered for its safe return. ‘Don’t touch it!’ said Eleanor’s mom. ‘You don’t know where it’s been.’ She ran to a nearby shop to buy a plastic bag in order to safely collect the ear without fear of contamination.

While her mother was gone Eleanor stood guarding the ear. It was an old ear, she decided, mottled and well worn. But she knew that, being a poet’s ear, it was highly attuned to wisdom, beauty, justice and truth.

Eleanor’s mother called, waving a plastic bag. But as her daughter turned in acknowledgement a great bird swooped and took the ear for itself. Eleanor watched as the bird – an eagle – flew off in the direction of the countryside beyond.

Eleanor jumped on a nearby bus. Sitting on the top deck, she followed the eagle’s flight until it disappeared above a line of misty hills. It took many hours of wandering before she discovered where the eagle’s nest lay. The ear must be in there, she thought, lying alongside half eaten mice, voles and caterpillars.

Eleanor felt despondent and sat beneath a tree. The poet’s ear had been lost forever. Who would now care about wisdom, beauty, justice and truth in such a cruel and uncaring world ? She gazed upon the rolling hills, clear blue sky, and sparkling river set before her, and thought ‘Well, perhaps the world is not so bad after all.’

Eleanor closed her eyes, listened to the wind as it sloughed between the trees. Then she took out the notebook she always carried with her and began to write.