the blue spaces

The silence that lives in the grass

on the underside of every blade

and in the blue spaces between the stones.

The silence

that follows shots and birdsong.

The silence

that pulls a blanket over the dead body

and waits in the stairs until everyone is gone.

The silence

that lies like a small bird between your hands,

the only friend you have.

------Rolf Jacobsen

 

Done