The Calm Night

The pans are cooling on the stove;
curtains flutter in the breeze.
The night is lovely,
the streets are quiet,
we will not ponder the disease.
The champagne boxes are all emptied
you may sit on them, if you please,
and together we may wonder,
loudly,
the depth and sweetness of our dreams.

On Silent Days

You may have heard one silence
but you have not heard them all,
you may have heard the nothing of a peak
or the nothing of a valley,
the failure of a headphone or
the absence of birds,
you may have heard one silence but
you were not really listening,
inward-focused, intent and callous,
on the silence within your heart.