Silent Songs

In the event that I forget what this poem is about I refer you now to the birds outside my window, they are singing but the song is silent. I should have titled this poem ‘Windows’ but then the silence and the birds got my attention. Days before father died in the Hospice he would gaze out of the same window. On the other side of that silent window horses grazed in a paddock – nothing special. We both would sit facing that expanse of glass, I wondering what to say next, he nodding and smiling at the horses, the green cropped grass - the occasional birds. Not a sound did all make but father was listening as only those close to the center can hear. I believe the words end now. In the event of my losing my hearing in the ensuing quietus please look away.