Afternoon In The Library
.
I'm in the library observing easily
its language: silence is spoken here.
Thoughts are ushered in so quietly.
Words, even daydreams are whispered
and heard. Outside, the white-steepled
church tells the time in black-faced mime.
I continue reading 'Leviathan', but
images and sounds of singing whales
fail to surface. Instead, I think of fascists
and sleeping giants when suddenly, giggling girls
from the high school burst the balloon of silence.
The trance broken, I think of a poem.
.
-by Mark S. Foley
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