Independence, dependence. So much
depends…. Upon the light at sunrise, stars at sunset, wind in the shrubbery, roses in neglected gardens, upon the ubiquitous cats, upon the sparrows, the sparrows.
Upon the thrum of insects in the trees
at daybreak or nightfall, upon the forgotten shoes on the landing, the spoiled milk in the cup, the one book left turned upside down open to a page its reader will never come back to, sign of the insomniac’s night of wakings.
Upon a chord, an undertone, an under-
tow of sound in the ears of silence,
a silence beyond stars, wind, roses,
cats, sparrows, shoes, cups, books,
wakings.
Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 20, Issue 2.
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