Friday, April 20, 2012

Move Nigh

Silence arrived this morning,
I am filled with it,
Now what?
The eyes are watchful in sleep,
And the limbs move nigh,
Even the prayer has left the lips,
How am I to live in this stillness?
I only know the onslaught of words,
This new place is too quiet,
The poet is lost.

No comments:

Share Buttons