The Moya View

The Box That Holds My silence

Jonathan Moya reads The Box That Holds My Silence
At bedtime
I sit in my chair
and turn off
my long lived hearing aids,
putting them in the pine box
with the gold leaf clasp
and a brown phoenix
charred into the lid

The traffic outside dies,
the rasping of my dog is silent,
my wife’s snoring is mute
and the world is so so quiet now.
In the morning only
the light streaming through
the white shear curtains
tells me I have

woken up.
In very broad homage to Robert Frost’s Stoppng by Woods on a Snowy Evening">">


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