Enter Home Planet News Poetry of Issue #6                         Page 10
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BLESSED SILENCE

If the air had no radio, TV or ear plugs,
silence, blessed silence,
but mass suicide from crazy people
unable to handle sparrow song
cresendoing from the sleeping evergreen
awake now in morning sunshine,
geese honking in vees
as I watch from below
remembering to keep my mouth
shut like Dad told me,
or their own thoughts
if they even have any.

Silence, a horrific dream
during the day like at night,
home alone, the wind
tickles a tree limb to scratch
the outside of the house…
again…again…again –
a killer on the loose
luring you to open the door
to see what’s outside
when you hope you see nothing
or at least the tree limb
now silent in flashlight beam.

  Diane Webster