Everything Stands Still,
The Air Suddenly Dries,
Like Snapping Washing
On A Summer Breeze.
Silence Sits At The Window,
Watching Me,
Clicking It’s Tongue
And Wondering –
‘How Does It Feel
To Know My Sombre Tones? ‘
I Laugh,
Not To Feel Joy
But Only To Quiet
That Knowing Reticence.
Slowly, This Air Sways,
Like Lighters Glowing
To A Stadium Song
Long Forgotten
Until Today.
A Whisper Now Washes
The Chill From My Room
And I’m Faced
With Images Of Eyes Glaring At Me
Through My Soul.
I See Them -You Know-
Their Knowing Grins
Never Reaching Their Eyes…
These Shadows Of Dreams,
These Spectres Of Silence.
Viola Grey