The words I speak are individually surrounded by silence.
Each word, though often strung quickly to the one that follows,
actually has a little bit of silent rest at the pronouncement of it,
before the next one works its way into an uneasy instant of noise.
If I could speak only the silent spacing between the words,
I am sure that you would be able to understand me.
The instances of wordlessness would say much.
You would find more room to hear me
and I would struggle less with trying to make
I have noticed that the birds nearby in the forest
have this manner of communication,
but I must listen so carefully to see how it works.
First, one will be quiet, and then another one
will be quiet back, until the early edges
of the day’s darkness settles in,
and the crickets are invited to begin their conversation.