Silence is Mouldy

Dreaming of a time 

When the minutes silences 

And two minutes silences 

For every grief and ending 

Every sad and solitary group 

For edifying and forgettable memories 

Add up 

To every waking minute of the year. 

How many breakages will we shy from 

Before the pool of minutes is used up 

And we can live in silence? 

The missed, the grieved, the otherwise 

Wronged must squirm and wriggle 

In their darkness – bathed in sweet 

Respect and recollection. 

Thoughts are so fast, and thinking 

So much speedier than  

doing… doing  

Silence for a minute stretches for an age beyond 

Say, shopping for a minute 

While we hug the thoughts of men unmet 

Of deeds undone.