J. C. Kuehn Miller

Read. Write. Repeat. Aspire to be a Janitor.

Un Autre Genre de Silence

I started this poem at one ‘til twelve
undoubtedly it’s minuit maintenant…

Tu dors dans ta chambre
Et je rêve ici
under the belfry.

Forget the lost time we have;
we could start anew…
if it’s really possible these days.

Écoute! Le vent est dansait
upon the windowpanes.
knocking.
tapping.
silence.

Forget the lost sleep we have;
spending time counting the sheep
herded on one side of the bed-
evidently we’ve been saving up!

Mutter-mutter
pitter-patter
“That door was to remain shut!”
Et un autre silence.

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This entry was posted on August 21, 2014 by in Poetry and tagged , , , .
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