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By chris Date: 2006 Dec 16 Comment on this Work [[2006.12.16.02.24.13847]] |
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The silence is only because I can't say, can't describe the sound the fog makes emptying into this valley. I have no idea where it comes from. Nor can I tell of the space its leaving renders empty. Feet tired, I walk. I consider where you might be (though I can't know) and note the weary gestures of the pines and hemlocks-- limp with no wind and tired from the mad choruses of sunlight that have streamed through here daily. And now rain. I'm telling you, there is an exhaustion about them and a pain more ancient than the both of us, than all of it. Does their silence indicate acceptance? They know, they just know. No more. But water runs form leveled earth to soil (the process intact nonetheless) and my boots sink into ground that will be frozen in a month. |