it happens.

Often enough
for the sound to keep ringing.

In wire, on plains, among branches,
static song filling spaces between
in a crowd of pariahs.

The whisper of possibility,
a susurrus rhyme telling us all
to be not afraid,
take a two step breath
and cling to the stillness.

In that quiet tick
one voice might say


and a new phase
will strike a chord
to ring for a while.

It might seem too simple,
but roll it between your lips
and savor the bloom.

Then taste the tragedy of
staying silent, keeping at bay
the lingering reverb
that reminds us...

Whatever we try to suppress,
it happens.

4 2 special peeps

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byLiar© 8 comments/ 5572 views/ 1 favorites

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