Tragedy meets with it.

Taking the fifth, sealed lips, loose lips,

the ones that sink ships,

and mute zoom calls and disorders.

Soundless words,

wordless sounds,

Simon and Garfunkel sang them.

 

When the ringing of church bells cease,

the last vibration dies,

what’s left but the absence,

a gaping hole, cilia stiff and unperturbed.

 

The musical score’s rest,

the monk’s vow,

and the moment’s bowed head,

respecting the dead,

say it, without speaking, sighing, singing,

snoreless sleep,

a canine’s thoughts,

dreams and visions,

sound off,

mimes

silence.