what silence

what silence is for a church mouse
makes a music, known to pines
when darkness sets in---the moans
and creaks of cedar bark, and curves

of earth--bound on a single silver thread
a broken bird's wing--directed towards
wholeness has a way of re-calibrating
the essential--no longer lingering

on clam shells and poppies, long
over their peak in the meadow
of benevolence; how we breathed
without a single rehearsal,

how the softest whale song
emitted an electric blue energy
so close to the edge
of the high tide mark

and the cypress, leaning in
towards the shaded pine province
exactly at sunset
when the quiet was deafening

and the mild blue sky air
would wrap garlands of unpredictable
joy seeping from the now
rising creek--

a lizard's tongue
reaching its mouthpiece clear
through the still
unconcerned pond



kate lamberg~fall, '14
edited 3-29-'16 (c)

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