Quiet- a poem


As the snow falls, there are such grey gaps of time

between the flakes

where I amÂ…..


this was a low blaze beneath the whiteness, the cold.

We think

of a high single note rung on a piano

as its layers spill out.

What was first such simple

singularity, such as the word love


a simple kiss

becomes through its unlayering

its own filled cathedral of sounds,

its own palette alive with

all the possibilities that lay


the snowflake which was falling

and the snowflake which fell.

About Paul Gordon 2955 Articles
Paul Gordon is the publisher and editor of iState.TV. He has published and edited newspapers, poetry magazines and online weekly magazines. He is the director of Social Cognito, an SEO/Web Marketing Company. You can reach Paul at pg@istate.tv

Be the first to comment

Leave a Reply