Listening

One-word Prompt for Tiny Spring Poem

The silence is deafening,
A feather falls then brings
A crescendo of brushes
On the wooden floorboards.

The hands of the clock,
That used to silently 
Move around unnoticed,
Echo through the emptiness.

I never realized the draft
That comes from the East,
That window that never tired
Of seeing the sun rising. 

At dusk, the sun slowly hides
Tiny footsteps scramble
Back to the holes in the dark
Squirrels and chipmunks alive.

Our memories weaken and die
Muted with age and Father time,
Emotions fading by running away,
I will stay listening until next life.

#TinySpringPoem with Beth Kempton | Day 7

Photo by Ahmad Odeh on Unsplash

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Reflection:

• This poem was composed while listening to Lana del Ray:

• What types of sounds put you in moments of reflection?

• Here’s my current favorite from Beyoncé’s new album:

👀 Read more of my Poetry.