A Great Silence has fallen
over the high mesa
here, where we live...
in the shadow of the
Sandia Mountains...
It came several weeks ago---
earlier than usual
and more noticeable...
It is a silence that is so loud,
one hears it---I know...
it's a strange thing...
It is like living on a farm, a dozen
miles from anywhere...
with no cows mooing, no pigs
oinking, and no chickens
"puck-puckng..."
and no distant lonesome tractor
motors, heard from afar off...
It is true, the only three sounds
we can remember from these
weeks...are the wind-chimes
out back during soft, silent
breezes...
The Tuesday morning city trash
truck, as it picks up the
trash bin across the street,
and honks its air-horn each
week
at the five-year-old boy, the aspiring
future TRASH MAN, who
arises early weekly, dons his little
striped Osh-Kosh overalls
and waits at the curb, with his mama,
and waves...
Then there is the small, pesky dog
somewhere in the neighborhood
who barks during naps, with
his strident little "ARF-ARFS..."
But it is not the silence that matters
most...
It is the LIGHT!
The light that graces my cozy corner...
the "dappled
light" which falls almost as a blessing
on my writing place...
is gone, headed for Capricorn...
The colorful, fruited, table-cover,
My writing pad and silver Cross pen
are also dark now, because of
the departed dappled light...
Oh in a sense, it is still here--- now
falling
across my shirt, for as the sun
moves south, the shadows also
move...north...
Things change...they say it is the
nature of things...change...
But maybe there's enough light
stored in a poet's heart
to still be able to write
during the cold, dark times,
which are coming...
****************
BY MIL
9/09/16
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