You fingered the white top Button of your white blouse. I just tried to act natural. A tree fell in the forest Nearby without making a sound. Like most of what we said It made the silence deeper. Our laughter made us sadder. You said the only cure For anxiety was fear. Now solitude undoes loneliness Like a ribbon from your hair, And the sound at last arrives That knocks the wind out of the ground. Used with the permission of Copper Canyon Press, P.O. Box 271, Port Townsend, WA 98368-0271, www.cc.press.org |