QUIET SPACES

There are quiet spaces,

snow-covered fields without footprints,

deep forests without bird songs or wind sighs,

empty nests, architectural nooks, or

a creek’s lazy flow that soothes a finger’s touch.

Once the drive-in picture show shuts down and

speakers are set back on their stands;

once windows are steamed and fogged,

all eagle eyes, tied to motion, turn inward,

where words tumble around in vacuous spaces,

collide and connect, create symbols and metaphors.

Yet, there are quiet spaces,

at the end of a book or a song,

after a sunset’s burst of light,

before a storm breaks on the horizon,

where words evaporate and music is silence,

where time stands still and waits. 

©cmheuer, January, 2018