It’s almost as if we <br />sing them to each other all the day <br />to many tunes of silence: <br />toss them, daring you <br />to dropp them; <br /> <br />throw them like stones; <br />say them over our shoulder, <br />looking the other way; <br />half-fill them, because <br />the other does not deserve them – <br />thanks, give you a call, see you… <br /> <br />sing them to the tune of <br />a closing door; <br />shout them as if we wanted <br />everyone to hear them, say <br />yes, you’re right… <br /> <br />say them so thoughtlessly, that <br />it's as if we've forgotten what we said <br />just before we said them.. <br />and some words spoken <br />not with the mouth, but <br />from a shining eye, that speaks them <br />calling to another eye; <br /> <br />or in the bed, said so gently <br />and so softly, that <br />it’s as if, not you, but the other <br />who is heard to say them; or is it <br />both of you; <br /> <br />there’s a music in all these; <br />words, wrapped around <br />with the music of our silences <br />that sing unspoken words.<br /><br />Michael Shepherd<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/singing-the-silences/
