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The Problem with Silence ... is there is so much room in it; room that invites exercise or imagination or failing that, watching the circus 10,000 glamours speckled minnow trout thoughts. Silence is deep enough for long vision; like expensively ground glass it rings when I strike it just so. I have clumsily shattered it. Last night I slept beneath the wordless stars; even the freeway kept its peace. My ears reached for your articulations doeskin touch of your breath. Babblers steal the opportunities from wise old bards who nevertheless get the nut at each cracking. Knowing begins in silence. Thought stalks quietly as a garbage truck, And words rattle in the windy alley Like cans racing for the curb. ©Parris ja Young |