And the Silence
by David Adès


It’s the sun, she said, when my eyes lit upon her face.
It’s beautiful, she said, and I didn’t understand her.
It’s love, she said, looking past me into the distance.
It’s a movie, she said, touching the film on my skin.

It’s heartache, she said, when the wind moaned through the orchard.
It’s loneliness, she said, and there was no reply.
It’s only rain, she said, when the sky filled with my tears.
It’s loss, she said, whilst I searched for the man I had been.

It’s a book, I said, turning another page.
I have read it, she said, walking out the door.
And the silence was a mouth, the silence was a rebuke,
the silence was a shout, the silence was a graveyard.






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