|
The streets are filled with Silence,
|
1 |
|
her nearly visible form
|
2 |
|
moving down dark hours.
|
3 |
|
|
|
|
I pass a van whose driver rushes
|
4 |
|
to empty his containers of old news,
|
5 |
|
only to fill them with new and desperate things,
|
6 |
|
like father # 6 coming forward
|
7 |
|
to claim a little girl whose glamourous mother
|
8 |
|
died in wonderful mystery.
|
9 |
|
|
|
|
I pass the sweepers of the road,
|
10 |
|
their giant brooms spinning round
|
11 |
|
to capture the flotsam of modern pirates
|
12 |
|
who sail concrete in ships of steel -
|
13 |
|
their booty, stocks and bonds
|
14 |
|
and pension plans.
|
15 |
|
|
|
|
My son is waiting with packed bags.
|
16 |
|
We leave his wife sleeping,
|
17 |
|
we talk of nothing urgent as we drive.
|
18 |
|
|
|
|
He will sing tonight in Florida,
|
19 |
|
I will sleep in California.
|
20 |
|
|
|
|
Silence will steal into both our rooms,
|
21 |
|
touching us with dreams of flight,
|
22 |
|
whispering his a-cappella lullabies in my ear,
|
23 |
|
leaving my kiss upon his stubbled cheek.
|
24 |