when you are done sitting on a public park bench,
and the silence of being envelopes you, as if
the universe paused too,
beneath

or leaves stop rustling; empty thoughts fill
the spaces and chained veins become
unbound,
half a minute done and the places been or going to,
...
appear like silence to you, and you ask silence.

Y'know, if you log in, you can write something here, or contact authors directly on the site. Create a New User if you don't already have an account.