voices recorded

Volume of sound that can
Only be heard in the quietest of nights
in this case it was only as if
Closing the door and when reopened it
Evoked a whole new place to exist
So different it even felt alien
Reminded of the last day before relocating
Ears that feel like they do not work because
Country sounds that have all faded to nothing
Only be heard in the darkest of midnight
Riddles in the things you do not hear
Doing little tricks on your mind all the time
Equally spooked by silence and sudden noise
Daring to be the first one

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About jaybeasley2

a writer, a painter, a poet, a wordsmith
This entry was posted in poem, poems, poetry, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

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