[Poem] Silence


I’ve always longed
to be held in silence,
a bubble of darkness
for the ears and mouth
to comprehend.
But now, I know.

Amongst the tree-twitch,
where the branches
itch the leaves
I hear far away roads,
the sound of distant voices
that are nothing.

They are silence.
The tread of my boots
on stone, the rhythmic
jangle of loose metal clasps
jar with the coo’s
of the pigeons.

But I know no sound
in this silence, this dull
quiet all around nullifies
noise like snow,
catching in the pockets
of cold calm.

The wind can’t scream,
and the air, though laboured,
cannot give voice
to a silent body
falling through the night.
You hear the ground pause.


© Hayden Westfield-Bell, 2013


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