silence reigns, sitting on clouds of golden thought
it whispers rather than musics songs sans end
holds its tongue at moments clock mimics cuckoo..
turning keys are both well come friend or – farewells
whilst kaleidoscopes collaborate far beyond space
speakers talk of seasons, tongue knowledge all day
forego the shimmer of sheen-curved stars, holding
palms upwards as if to catch whatever drifts,
missing the importance of keeping silent when.. .. ..








