Email Poem

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Poem

it starts underneath a small table
near the entrance to a motel lobby
and grows with great speed and sprite
quieting the house-guest at the counter
as it flows - muted down the hallway

glass doors opened with dampened yawn
and it streams across the parking lot
as sedans and pickups suppress 
carbon-laden coughs to sit sedately as

breezily it blows stilly past the 
man mowing his lawn, now silent
to a Parish church down a block
with its burked* spire bells

silently it presses over covered acres
of rural pasture and time-laden wood
a great enlargement of un-din
no bovine low, or snap of twig
creeking waters without gurgle

flowing past, and around, and over
people, individually and whole crowds
without even a whisper of apprisal
covering vast space at un-supersonic speed
oceans without roll or roil of waves

still, it moves on over island and isthmus
continents languishing on quiet molten
their ridges and troughs without groan
as the entirety of sphere becomes hush

no noise, no sound around, surrounded
without the slightest sound instilled
in ear, in mind, in thought - in me
in my own near-deafness, I wonder
is it to be peaceful, tranquil, or 
silence too vast without coo or cry?

© Goode Guy 2013-03-17

* http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/burke #2

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