Quiet City

Just a thought from when the city felt unnaturally quiet.

Photo by Dan Meyers on Unsplash

I see the silence in the city.
I see the silence this summer
from no one planting hours 
outside and plucking days
pollinated with memories
more warm and plentiful
than chrysanthemum petals.

We hear the dawn 
and rain reimagine 
kaleidoscopic colors
that shift and slither 
into new forms 
easier than water 
challenges the geometry 
of its restrictive cages.
An invitation to wonder
that falls on stone hearts.
Unanswered. Unrequited.

The city sees the silence 
beneath the glass layer 
of our eyes as we wait 
for the storm to deliver 
a tragedy or blessing.

I see the silence in everyone
holding their breath
as a typhoon tears
through the city
and we prepare
to mourn or go
about our day.

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