There was a walking one

in the silence

a quiet wandering one

slipping in and out

seen and unseen

this tentative inquisitor

wants to know

                   who I am

 

can’t say

I just don’t know

 

still it hangs about

a shadow on the edge of all things

like the clean black edge of the record

before the music starts

empty and full of promise

 

whoever it is

I welcome them

like the buzz of absolute silence

filling the void

like a hand in the dark

that brings no light

but the pulsing warmth of something better –

 

life.