Stark white paper and midnight ink,
sun lit pale yellow plaster,
big drop rain flowing rivulets in the street
and your hair twirling in curves of fine silver.

Against the tide of violence
something spoken from the silence
like an arrow parting air
with the sharpened point of love.

 

 

8 Responses

  1. Don, I have written many poems from this space and about this space and as usual, you have captured the soft and yet dramatic essence of silence. As in the 60’s it was “the Sound of Silence”!!! Thank YOU.

  2. Hello silence, my old friend,
    I’ve come to listen once again,
    to my poet friend’s inspired pen

    …thank you, Don.

  3. Thank you Don! Your poetic expression always deepens my reverence for the unseen behind the visible world of form.

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