Void

It's barely there, amid the noise of traffic,
People talking, music, television's drone:
A tiny mass of silence, yours, a thing
Which, hidden, slowly grows. I feel as
If it threatens me. I felt so well when
I could hear you, told myself that your
Words, always tentative, I must admit,
Suggested what I wished you'd say.
They didn't, and my own, so clumsy,
Seem now to have ended them. The
Noise persists, but, deep within it,
One stilled voice has fed the silence
Ringing in my ears.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 49 times
Written on 2015-03-16 at 14:15

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