Unsaid
I am a resevoir
of the unspoken -
words too costly
and thoughts too dear -
so silence,
the everpresent
unchanging
melody
that scores my life.
Where is the other end
of the broken
whistle on the wind?
What fragment lies beyond
earshot, or whisper lost
in a restless sigh?
Say the right words then,
say the right words -
(oh god, say anything
at all, but)
don’t let
the mute thunder
of a resistant heart
win the day.
Copyright © Barb Black | Year Posted 2008
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