Silence accrues
like a stale drink on the way home.
I refuse the lure of music,
bid bus-drone singe my ear.
Months have died since the ripe
taste of a kiss honeyed the lips.
I remember failed dates singing –
oh engines humming in memory!
The highways of dating sites have
met a few accidents: crashed heart
picked up by love songs and quiet
dates spent with self, or a close
friend at seasides. The birds -
intuitively - understood the silent
dirges of solitude. Solace
was one drink too many.
Vengeance of hurled rocks.
Smashed bottles. Now I pick
any moment anywhere and it
sings to me- bus drone, silence’s
low ditties, the soft sound
of slow breaths returning,
like slow surf in me.
