Sometimes it hides
In the strange
Hum
Of the refrigerator
Stopping
For a moment
Sometimes
It is the unexpected
Laugh
From the hallway
Or the rush of voices
From the street
The music finds itself
In the silence
Silence is the bones
Of it
The sense
And meaning
For all those
Sound
And unsound
Reverberations
That pretend to be
Without
Silence
They are
Noise
In this imaginary
Place
Where silence
Moves
Beyond time and space
There is a sudden
Liberty
We cease to
Be
Think
Feel
Or see
We are simply free
By Julie Flanders
Photo by everwild
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October Process 