is there silence, they asked me,
in the snow bright drift of time
I almost answered them
but then I changed my mind.
we're waiting...they said;
we haven't got all day.
I looked away
beyond the windows
where the white fields lay
so silvered in the winter sun.
I've finished with this, I realized.
with being questioned this way.
and drifted away.
mary angela douglas 1 august 2015; 1 january 2024
No comments:
Post a Comment