On Silences

Stefan Fiedorowicz

Lying atop the sheets
on a warm summer night
sleep is the far`off train`whistle
haunting the dark silence
thru an open window

The Island is as quiet
as a cathedral’s sanctuary
the flames of the votive candles
heard licking stained glass
at prayer for the dead

Silence like simplicity
is frightening to moderns
addicts to their noisy machines
heeding the drip of water
from the leaky faucet

Coyotes on the ridge
begin where whistles stop
seems they too wear of silences
somewhere up the Sound
the buoy’s bell clangs

“Accept what comes from silence.
Make the best you can of it.
Of the little words that come
out of the silence, like prayers
prayed back to the one who prays,
make a poem that does not disturb
the silence from which it came.” ~ Wendell Berry


About Peter Notehelfer

I'm a retired people person who now finds the time to watch the little details of the world without worrying about being watched by anyone . . . I live on an Island north of Seattle with my wife named Ellen, a yellow dog named McGee, a yellow cat named Gatzby, and four fine chickens . . . I read fiction, bake bread, smoke salmon, and fish whenever the weather allows . . . Oh, and yes, I try to write a poem every day simply to avoid senility!
This entry was posted in free verse, poetry and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to On Silences

  1. namelessneed says:

    Thank you for the curious fine piece of art, the damn fine Wendal Berry work, and of course your efforts. Your last verse was the prize for me. good job. g.r.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. My God this is gorgeous.

    Liked by 1 person

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