183. Coro a bocca chiusa

All their mouths are
closed
to me:

final wisps of daylight
stroke their weary
eyes -
mother to son, to
daughter -

now is their sleeping
time;
halls long
devoid of footsteps
in their echoing
bellies

closed
to me:
wandering down their
silent paths -
birds muttering in the
dying
day -

closed to me -
a language only
cedars
know:
rustling in the twilit air:
rustling lullabies to passersby
who believe themselves
awake -


https://thevisionaryfolkphotographer.files.wordpress.com/2013/09/glow-dalhousieuniv_4191.jpg?w=810


https://thevisionaryfolkphotographer.files.wordpress.com/2013/09/glow-dalhousieuniv_4282.jpg?w=810

July 16, 2017
Dalhousie University, Halifax, NS