poetry

Tonight was my first night back from New York. I haven't really been home since fall of 2007. I forgot how cacophonous the streets of New York are, and how ambient my backyard is.

"Silence"

The drum of the ear, unoccupied.

Flowers in bloom, the grass...'go' green,

nature screams, but it's nothing audible,

like a dog whistle, 

frequencies beyond the auditory understanding.

I can hear myself breathe. 

My heartbeat.

...I can hear myself breathe.

It's a gentle reminder.

I'm here, 

now.

The present is a present.