i listen for my voice…

in the thrumming of the snipe

and sand-shaking of the shore

and in the wind amongst

the naked ribs of half-dissected roofs

.

and flying with cacophony of gulls

and tumbled in the thrashing of the waves

and distant echoes of big bang

that wash through us as gravity

.

but then when I stop listening and write

my voice is heard

and found within the truths

that silence whispers

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