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Apr 25
no man has a voice.  Circling
like smoke rings blown from
the mouth of a cigarette. Men
flattened against the wall like

a silhouette. Painted like a port
wine stain on a face that none
see. The train on the platform
takes leave.  The traffic and the

horns. People talking into their
phones. Cars running red lights, police
sirens and medflights. Billboards
on top of large buildings. Children

fastened in their seats and
screaming. Jackhammers digging up
the ground. The pounding of a migraine
in the head. Not a word is said. And it spreads –

Silence
sandra wyllie
Written by
sandra wyllie  56/F
(56/F)   
30
 
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