Nature Abhors a Vacuum

Silence is golden, so we are told, and those
Who don't speak do not because they
Choose their words with care. They have
No use for nattering. How sad it is, then,
That their silence, like a light at night,
Attracts a swarm of self-regarding moths,
Who go on, beyond all endurance, telling
Tales about themselves. Their victims
Wonder (without speaking) how these
Dowdy insects find such fascination
With their lives. They fidget. “Look!
It's time to go,” The moths continue
Fluttering until the sky begins to pale.
At last, they leave, and those who've
Held their tongues, who've longed all
Night for silence, feel their spirits rising
As they go.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 121 times
Written on 2019-08-24 at 00:49

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