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Shouting Down the Silence cover
Shouting Down the Silence
- 2002

Shouting Down the Silence

When I lie down to sleep
and the hairs on my body stir,
somewhere, I’m sure of it, the trees
down the length of a mountain range
are fluttering in a moonlit breeze.
Not that this explains anything or restores
or even breaks the endless silence
of the broken pitcher lying on its side
in an abandoned shack, the rusty coat hangers
in empty lots, or any discarded thing,
nor that my mind will possibly invent a thought
that will change the contours of the universe
and show me a pathway through it,
but that at the moment of my death
I will be able to let my last breath go
with the same unthinking assurance
as that breeze sailing down the mountain range,
knowing that to every furred rib cage it ruffles,
and to every leaf and wing tip it nudges,
it murmurs in my voice, like a shout
down the silence, “I was here.”


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