Quiet Hours
It’s so quiet now,
no more noise coming from upstairs
All of the background sounds
have faded into the mist
Radio silent dawn ... each morning —
once rambling chatter now only dead air
Audio spikes of serene quietude,
no more voices that are rude yammering late
Turn the open sign,
shut the entrance gate
and pull down the shade
Switch on the black mood UV light and drift away
Don’t know how long it’s been since the accident,
can’t remember, but that is good
Memory flashes like a receding pulsar star,
faint blips on a radar screen
It’s so very quiet now,
such peaceful quiet time
Head now filled with relaxing cosmic void,
listening to the music of the spheres —
minus-zero vibration decibels
The brain waves are so calm everyday,
life is like a tranquil, pastoral haze
Faces rotate around and move about
It’s as if they’re saying: let them out,
or let who out?
Either way, their pantomime voices trail off ...
float into space ...
It’s the oddest thing, never knowing what day is today
It’s gotten really quiet now,
even for ears that stay plugged
with mild catatonic gauze
It’s always quiet hours for me,
so peaceful and serene
I only hear any noise,
when I go to sleep
and dream restless dreams ...
distant dreams that silver project
silhouette images of a lost life before
Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2017
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