poem: back to quiet

(164 Words) Spring 2016

by S.R.A. Markin

i can’t stand the quietness
any longer.

today is one of the coldest days
this winter has had, and i
have not stopped walking. i
walk knee deep in snow
far from a trail. the sun
is behind the clouds. my
frozen mustache pricks
my nostrils and melts
into my mouth. my
finger tips are white and numb
and with each breathe i inhale,
i exhale slowly and cough
my mind
wonders.

then from behind me, i hear a tone
a whistle,
like a bird chirping from a high branch
the same tone i would hear from outside
of my window at home
during the summer mornings
i enjoy the tone. i bathe in the nostalgia
i chirp too. i chirp
as if i am singing along
to text that runs along a screen of an old tv
during karaoke night. i chirp
as loudly as i can,
as if the intoxicated locals are harmonizing
along with me.

i hear a branch snap
back to quiet.

 

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