May 24, 1999: When silence becomes your friend
To assume, to guess, to wonder why—silence that goes unrecognized shapes and shadows the sounds I cannot see. Blindfolds so thin, light is lifted then set down again. Harness the sound of silence; assume it rests while clinched in your aging fist—to guess I have it only to wonder why? Slowly opening the aching aging hand, I turn silence free—unto the world in which it was born. At that moment, time invades the silent shores bringing with it allies in the shape of birdcalls, crickets and bass beats from teenagers cars. Shadows cast over my assumed friend—to guess he’ll survive is all I am left with—to wonder why makes me a poet.