Getting in The Way
I am always trying
to put words into the mouth
of mornings, speak
over the quiet that descends
at dusk when the world
pauses to take a breath.
It is my voice I hear
echoing back in the wind
and my fears that crawl
the dark on those long nights.
I make the world
a reflection of me.
I seem to get in the way
and drown out with my own
noise whatever is there
deep in its silence, patiently
waiting for me to become quiet,
to listen, hear what it has to say.
Copyright © Paul Willason | Year Posted 2025
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