6/1/08

The ringing in my ears is a choir of silence.
I am immutable here,
preserved by the solitude
like the grazing animals frozen in layers of
the earth's wisest rock.
I imbibe the night with consciousness and calculation,
but leave no footprint on its soft frame
at which it might look back to remember me.
This corner is a spilled bag of marbles,
and I watch, a hapless child,
as each person spreads across the carpet,
or is lost into the vent.