listen at the edge….sunlight approaches, pressing through thinning walls…

Past asphalt, edges, past all the noise...the vacant places, the empty, forgotten ... These places are the gathering of the abandoned, the forgotten, the unseen... The feathered edge of sunlight brushes through chat dust,, whispers of wind, empty nest of straw, clumps of down feathers, distances....a voice begins to gather around these silences.... wordless... Learn to shape my voice the way I hold light between my fingers...I build a loom of spider's thread, stands off rain.. .

Between world and the word falls my silence.... song once heard, left behind... yet, a voiceless resonance remains carried in the breath.... given to a nest of earth and straw and clay, held in the hollow of my hand...