Have you ever heard in your mind the sounds that silence makes the silence that spreads like music as in splendor a dewy morning breaks silence that clings to a Florentine fog as lone cyclist a cobble street snakes
the silence that hangs heavy after a heavy down pour finally ends or await with it for the moment when heaven its pearly reward sends they sound so different and surreal like life’s ethereal myriad bends
the silence that weighty dwells in wisps, rises from vacant eyes the silence that fills to the brim dole, of a beggar’s ripping sighs silence that hangs like a sword on fears of unsaid distant byes
silence o endless tormenting silence you play on a piano’s dusty keys from a chair that rocks in howling wind on a lifeless verandah, distant sees from a score of such like mends wherefrom one has drunk to ones lees
it speaks no man’s earthly breath yet heard in shattering numbness in ache and blight so steeped in rustle of a long gone worn dress in raucous merry gay proceeds or the mirth of a child’s bless
in the time of a frisky bloomy day or gnaw of a long starry night the lullaby of distant streaking trains or the gondola’s reflective sight the cavort of journeys done together Echoes the hush of a soundless blight