poetry and prose
A Too Brief Moment
Did you listen
to morning dew glisten,
alas
did you hear my footfall,
shoeless, crunching grass.
Ask yourself when you last
heard silence.
Last night we stood
in Leicester Square, where
fairy-lights dazzled the air,
and I caught your still shadow
next to mine.
dVerse Quadrille #46 “crunch” and Twiglet #53 “still shadows”.
Image is my own © Misky 2017
Thanks, De, and thanks for this week’s Quadrille.
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Thanks, Debi.
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Oh so gorgeous. I aspire to that listening to silence. This has all the elements of a perfect poem.
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Thank you, Victoria. I’m glad that you liked it.
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Hearing silence may be rare with all the background noise.
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We make our own silence, when needed. 🙂
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Love the way you talk about silence… I almost felt that in the second stanza that you can find silence where you least expect it.
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In this hectic world, we need to make our own silence
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They are for sure, Hank!
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The pleasure is mine. I am curious about Twiglets…
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Which is a pity because that sort of silence is gorgeous.
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It's Still Life 
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