A little drop

I dropped the night

Into a watery sky.

And watched

it’s inky fingers spread.

Stains across the sun.

And smiled.

As I realised,

Silence was falling.

Broken only by the soft


Of those who missed

The light.


Why Will You Talk But Say Nothing At All

Your genius lay
In waiting.
A smile.
While I set my own trap.
Raised myself for
My great fall.
By the words I uttered.
With confident ownership.
Blind to the rising tide.
The sea of letters
And voices of mine.
That would drown me.
In the end.
While you smile.
As your silence
Will save you.

The Shop That Has Always Been

The bell on the door jangled.
Momentarily fracturing
A long cultivated,
Dusty, silence and peace.
Within a few blinks
It had regained dominance.
And an indoor dusk settled.
Letting those, heavy coated,
And hiding from the cold,
Browse in friendly quiet,
Shoulder to shoulder,
With politely engrossed

Faded Rose

Old echoes of voices. The cheer and praise. Sneak their way Past the smallest Opening of the door. Determined to find My desperatly closed ears. Taunting me with All that I used to have. What I once was. Those single past shouts Fade in to that muffled roar. I will never hear properly again. And I know. Only forever silence Would sooth me now. So, please do close The door.