there is a corner where light does not reach
even at noontime so we go to hide
away from where the foolish yellers preach

some days we dream of lazing on the beach
and waiting for the changing of the tide
there is a corner where light does not reach

untouched by hardness of unruly speech
where none can urge and no one can deride
away from where the foolish yellers preach

we may be safe from murderer and leech
both from the open blade and from the snide
there is a corner where light does not reach

into the silence where there is no screech
of angry voices seeking to divide
away from where the foolish yellers preach

we may be sure of what belongs to each
and how we find that only out of pride
there is a corner  where light does not reach
away from where the foolish yellers preach