Day 25

It's hard to find
a good silence these days.
I found one,
once, in the dunes, by the lake
and I stopped, and I heard
nothing.

The woods that I haunt
aren't silent like that.
When you stand still,
at the edge of your ears
A small crack
A small chirp
The distant rumble of trucks
And the silence, though near
remains just out of reach.

Even now, as I sit,
in the quiet,
the hums and the whirs
fill my head with the cues of my
Present day status.
I sit and wonder
if we've lost something dear.

In that bowl in the dunes,
where I stopped for a moment,
did I touch, did I see, did I taste, did I smell?

Or was I
Just
for the space of that moment?