Day 14: If I have to choose a silence

If I have to choose a silence

it will not be

earphones

secretly unplugged,

pale, straight lips,

a shoulder,

or a lock of hair.

It will not be the

liquid sheen of moonlight or

a deep-woods midnight crouch;

it will not be binoculars

or stacks of books

or holy candles.

If I have to choose a silence

it will be

a highway underpass

that’s charging through a rainstorm.

Here

.

.

.

then gone.