some wander muttering to themselves
beneath the weight of a scale they cannot outweigh,
while others sit inside of themselves
and make voices to fill the outer silence
created by their slow but steady plod toward absence
in a world too full for them

it is the way of things
that we move to avoid tangling our strings
in those of the ones around us
while words pour as letters –
missives from the fingers of the prophetic
to those with ears
to those with eyes