Silent Memory

Inside, through the walls and down the stairs,

The low constant colored noise of an unwatched television; From another room, the piercing whistle of a boiling kettle. Unremoved and unrepentant.

Step outside. Night, sounds distant and pin-point small.

The greygreen-silver leaves of the olive tree whisper With your breath, your words unspeakable.

Stars, chill and secret, beyond the warm lugubrious darkness.

Walk away. Walk until the rustle of juniper Is louder than kettles and televisions.

Until the lights of stars loom larger than city lights.

Til someone else shoulders the heavy silence of your memory.