Silence

Silence

In this clattering city, where the head swirls
in the constant surf of sound – raised voices,
the hollow rattle of heels on escalators,
car-horns clamouring in demented chorus -

Silence has settled on us like a shroud.
Each day goes by without a word
and you are vanished, mute, unreachable
as the Mountains of the Moon.

Someone said silence grows like cancer
and so it does, stealthily, until it takes
a life of its own, becomes a palpable thing:
and in the end unbreakable, incurable.

2nd March 2006