Silence
I noticed the quiet
the no-beating
the no-knocking
quiet
and I knew
it had wandered
my red ryder pump
the one I keep
in the ivory cage
had gone
it was away
somewhere
so still now
no roar
no rhythm
no…
just a wander’en pump
gone
old beat up dog
slipping silently
head down following
the one loving hand
in a life of noise
in a life of fury
but
I understand
that cage was dark
lonely sanctum
and all must be well
really –
what good’s a pump
with no connections?
Harnessing Chaos 