Silence is a strange noise
Trees applaud my solitude, boisterously ruining the moment
Or maybe it's the distant insects and frogs that break the silence
I can't seem to find them, constantly at the very edge of my
      perception
There's a plop to my right on the bank
(or maybe it was a sploosh... too noisy to tell)
but other than that the river is keeping its mouth shut
That same cool breeze riling up the wood whispers in my ear:
nature's static; she says everything and nothing

I wonder long and hard about their thoughts,
their hopes and aspirations and fears
and whatever else may occupy the silent minds of my companions
are their thoughts as loud as mine?
Does that little voice ever ******* shut up?