Tacit
(poem)
Recently, I have wanted to write about quiet. I hope this may give you a small moment of it.
Tacit Two men sit upon a log and watch the distant tide go out: there is no one else about they are old friends and all is well and that is all. There is no ocean breeze today to hide a ripple in the grass, and some small creature scurries past to reach its den where all is well, but that is all. There is no word so gentle but would rise up like a quarterstaff and crack the silent one in half to two again and break the spell; and it is all. Silence pools around their feet. There is no urgent news today and this is how they choose to say, these quiet men, that all is well. And that is all.


All is well. What a wonderfully tranquil poem!