Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

silence
walks on knocked over things
lets broken vases lie
flowers wither on the floor
fly dead on the sill
curtain weighing heavy on the rod

silence
glows on the crystals of moonlit dunes
bestows cool flame on hot pools of shadow
stirs thirst in a word-rasped throat
releases a bead of sweat like a seed
crawls on the night’s fingernails, nets despair’s heads


silence
phones from the heirloomed past
sifts through the rubbish of a house
flashes memories of once familiar names and spouse
cracks the walls of eternal rest
wracks and stabs the contortions of belief

Nice images here.

There's a heaviness to silence, an intensity, when your breathing, or running mind, or a rolling bead of sweat is the only stirring ...

each stanza it's own scene that I can easily see....being still, thinking watching is extremely difficult for many, but it is in the silence we grow

silence
phones from the heirloomed past
sifts through the rubbish of a house..................... vivid metaphor