The Sound of Silence
written by: Stephen Kingsnorth
Alarm clock missed, I overslept –
it failed to wake me – though it set,
as did morn chorus, cursèd dawn;
my noisy neighbour kept her cool,
as baby on the other side.
Now what had muffled outside sounds?
But peering pane, clogged street was bare –
diverted traffic? But why and where?
Uneasy with this no-fly-zone
in operation overhead –
for normal drone, incoming flights,
had left me dozing well past time –
so thus it was I stepped outside,
alerted to a stranger world.
I phoned a friend, but network down –
indeed a brick without a sound.
I drifted down the avenue,
its limes unmoved, still, heavy air.
But where had busy city gone,
the chatter on the airwave cache,
both clash and clatter, environs,
curbed dash and batter on the kerb,
bus pyroclastic exhaust flow,
with smash and shatter, accidents?
It was my heart that I could feel;
its beating, thudding through my bones
and teeth, its final call in jaw,
eustachian tube, tubular bells.
And then it dawned – a dream or death,
except that rhythmic pump felt near;
I wiped my eye as lifted lid –
dead weight beside me, both were true.
NOTE:
Based on the Prompt – Echoes of a Silent City
