Silence is not golden.
At present, it is a pounding, penetrating reminder
The air conditioner comes on from time to time
my sole sound companion;
as it achieves a loud monophonic bluster,
I just want it to end.
I can take the heat but not the monotony
It reminds me too much of my present predicament.
I find no comfort in being alone with my thoughts
when the thoughts do not come
when the ideas that seemed to be flowing
ebb suddenly then stop against an invisible dam-
a beaver’s wet dream.
(All puns intended).
Outside my window,
the wind pushes across the wide street below
foretelling the storm to come
It takes no prisoners and gives not one damn
I would ride it to escape if I could.