How do you paint silence?
or write it
thick as gray
turns slow to blue
a stagnant pool
in lazy ripples
moves under the low
dark skies of noon.
I imagined it empty,
a kind of death
in somber procession
an uneasy breath dressed
in flowered grief
but it is ominous
and stalking
a silken panther quietly
walking the tall grass,
its pensive prey held
tightly in its sight.


















47 old applause
