Mind soaks
with yesterday.
Rain stops.
Silence…is
deafening.
Quiet
solitude remains,
listening for
anyone at all.
This entry was posted on November 9, 2007 at 10:33 pm and is filed under Poetry etc. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
you will never find the Silence
as a space where one might dwell,
for it has no frame to guide the eye
except for tales that dead men tell.
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November 12, 2007 at 5:26 pm
you will never find the Silence
as a space where one might dwell,
for it has no frame to guide the eye
except for tales that dead men tell.