Some days are made for stillness, and no volume knob stands any chance.
White, blank, featureless, creatureless, every cat in the house asleep
But me.
I'm awake and sore-eyed;
Pacing room to silent room in search of someplace that doesn't hum with the nothing.
I could turn on the television
Radio
Vacuum sweeper
And all the carousel horses at once
And this hush wouldn't so much as shiver.
It's bigger than I am
And wholly imperturbed;
Knowing itself unbreakable by the likes of me.
So I suppose I must keep it like a holiday;
Dance without music,
Speak without words,
Sing without a single vibration in my throat.
Because the moon is full tonight, I recall just now,
And She speaks a different language altogether.
A tongue I've known since birth,
Though sometimes it can take a day of silence to make me remember
Such subtle conjugations.
Wordless Moon in May by clue
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