a poetry reading

it’s a wonder a poem can be heard at all,
its very nature working against it making much sound,
each word separated by silent spaces,
sitting perched precariously over a silent white abyss,
the soundlessness between each letter too,
the unspoken line breaks, dramatic pauses,
not to mention all the quiet surrounding the poem
from before it begins, then word after word using itself up
on the way to a quiet end.

* * * * *

Today’s word is

silent

Use it in, or to inspire, a piece of writing, and then post what you wrote as a comment below. I would love to read it : )

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