there is a silence
I’ve heard it at 3 a.m.
the soft hum of nothing
a dove eases herself before me
anticipation — knocking at a door
something touches the calm
the flutter of wings
collecting sounds of flight
and filling the room
kites in the sky
paper planes in the wind
leaves to rising hands
a statue of silence, given life
as a choir wakes
a whispering church
her wings return
to her side
like tired eyelids
and soon she moves
with the easy
sweeps of the dove
within the yawn of our sky
the hands, the rippling scales
stop cradling …
the dove leaves the piano
and I listen
the wind of a song
escapes the room
to rain in the sunshine
silence drifts asleep
kites,
In the store
paper planes,
in a notebook
leaves,
on the ground
the wind plays the trees
a gentle humming begins