The Ferocity of Silence

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By Montaffera

As I wash my hands –
Watch soap slip silently;
The thrill of cold water
Numbing to nothing –
I can see a spare sock
Stuck under the doorframe
Just a little bit;
The rest too thick to fit.

And our child, standing,
Staring at that sock;
Pondering his next move.
Flexing a narrow finger.

The weight of your absence
Is ubiquitous here;
A fierce silence, rent
By pointless everyday.
And I dry my hands
On a soggy towel,
Suddenly knowing that
I’m finished with typical.

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3 thoughts on “The Ferocity of Silence

  1. Those moments in life where one has to straighten the shoulders, take a deep breath, and embrace that change which one had no control over…I always feel so sorry for the speaker.

    Like

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