The dumb peace
of naught
took
return step on dusty welcome carpet;
branding the hush on me,
hush.
Let go what has gone.
And with that that has left,
am kept to lowly ick with burying dread,
lifting shit from some falling garden
in the cold caress of a newbornbroken spent.
Ruin tumbles without a shout,
without a cry,
without a whimper,
but the birds gossip how gone is gone
and how it left like hurried jet,
in silence, thousands far away,
screaming through the sky, across.
A smile deceit to room away from foolish me
what went on
- chirp chirp -
went on and on
- chirp chirp -
and on and on and on.
Damn you and yours,
whose soaring slapped
the crash of my quiet's return
and burned in me the hurt
to hush,
to no, no longer be heard.
