Alice O. Howell
Silences
She wrote:
The selection of silences
is somehow saddest in the spring:
the tree that bears no leaves
the woman man deceives
all irons touched by rust
the dog in the highway dust
the rock not reached by the tide
my gut inside
the rotting rotten porch
with dead grey rocking chair
all hands folded
quiet in despair
The selection of silences
is somehow saddest in the spring
yet what a sunpricked comfort
love would bring!
and what a sparkling racket
love could sing!
what banging bells of change
love could ring!
were my loving not rejected
by this spring!
a.o.howell