Taylor Graham Poet Free verse

Messages In the Dark

This morning under a blue-black sky
madras’d with dusky-white clouds
and stars shining through the swirls
of fabric, Venus in the east, 

I listen hard but all I hear 
is cricket song, so much life 
invisible in the ink-blot woods. 
No messages from space.

And then I hear it. Traffic 
on the main road more than a mile 
away; commuters bound to work, 
who moved way out here 
for the solitude and silence.

If there are messages from space,
it must mean those planets, too,
are getting crowded, sending out 
feelers, looking for a place

with more elbow room, and solitude
and silence.

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