The Silence Strikes Back

The running water is a faint thing,
The tarpaulin waving in the silent wind is oddly quiet,
The hum of the refrigerator is louder;
But inconsequential
As I wait for sleep to drown out the

Silence;

It mocks my wakefulness
Knowing I pray for it in the chattering morning,
Giving me what I want
Hours too early and yet too late.

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Silence at midnight

The silence rings in my ears.

 

Broken by the grinding of a gate latch,

There is the peculiar growl of a scooter;

Travelling down the brightly lit road.

 

But my ears ring.

 

The clanging of pipes.

The warren of homes with

The creaking and cracking of bones.

 

Nothing stops the ringing;

The midnight hour strikes,

Silently.