I am circling silence
the way a buzzard circles the dead,
as if silence is something to be fed on,
as if I might bring it into my body
for nourishment.
What if instead I let myself
be consumed by silence?
How might I live then?
I am circling silence
the way a buzzard circles the dead,
as if silence is something to be fed on,
as if I might bring it into my body
for nourishment.
What if instead I let myself
be consumed by silence?
How might I live then?