(Title taken from Sara Etgen-Baker)

In this little island before my house
I hear not a sound not even a mouse
muted trees of valor stand still in grace
I think I almost won the race

Tracks of history live here on this island
I recall the day you took me by the hand
nearer to forever I feel so content
no leaf is stirring inside this tent

A silent symphony plays on in my head
needling my heart like pliable soft thread    
In this little island before my house,
I hear not a sound not even a mouse.