silence

cold
not enough to see the breath
but enough to chill the toes
under slippers
red velvet
with leopard print
on the inside
i think
i am
enough
to live
in the cold
of the out doors
without
the fur
of my past
i think
i can
roam
with brambles
in my hair
find shelter
in the caves
of what was once
a place
of shelter
consider
the cavern
between
generations
of people
who used
to roam
the countryside
with some sense
of belonging to it

i am lost
in this modern
technocasm
of interconnected
loneliness
writing
virtual words
that live
only
on screen
accessible
through
the touch
of keypad

silence

reverberating
in
something
alone
coming
along
in this
cold
dark
night

up

up
early
before the sun
before the dawn
of the day
just making itself
inside this darkness
a blanket
of dreams
to cover up with
to cuddle under
i am here
awake
typing these quietudes
these shallow breaths
turned deep
i am in it
this night
about to become
mourning
in the morning
and i know
it, too,
is a kind of
birth
of what cannot
be born
on this side
of dawn.