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After miles of word songs

I found the fields of silence –

Here, no sound tagged the perfect moment –

No syllables traced the foot falls

of memory –

sorrow –

longing –

No shadows leaned in the soft earth

where an evening sigh had

drowned in the rising night –

Nor any pain where a hand had

faithfully pressed

a moment in its palm –

in a slow coming to terms

… incomplete psalm…

Only the fields stood –

silent –​

for miles around.