Sunday, February 25, 2007


There is silence,
a low hollow lull
that dulls me
as I sit for hours
shadowing the sun.

When there is sadness I pain,
there is no light through net curtains
no joy seen out of window.

Nothing -

the sound tightens the sinews
grasps the very heart and strangles.
What would it be like to go like that?
Suffocated under the twinkle of the stars
hung underneath a blossom tree.

Silence, one little breath at a time
one short burst of a memory
shattered by the need for a rhyme.

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