IN THE AFTERNOON

I thank God for the silence

Which happens sometimes.

The silence allowed

By the radio off,

The silent and empty TV,

The voices ceased.

 

The sound of a child's voice,

Measured and felt by the distance.

 The sound of a bird singing,

Growing in the silence.

 

The sound of a saw is the sound of steel

And wood, so pristine

As in the days of Noah.

 

Continuous bass is the wind,

Of all 

an out of tune cello.