and silence sits
in the corner
on this night of full moon and cold rain and extra innings, cozy on the couch in wool socks with a book in my hand and a mind that keeps floating to other places.
i let it float and breathe in the quiet, the quiet that is never really soundless, because silence always has something to say, especially just exactly when you think it has finally fallen asleep. there will be a murmur, a sigh.
a question will come creeping up to tug on your sleeve and invite itself to the party. and how can you refuse a question? and then before you know it, the room is full of them, huddled in groups or standing alone, some sitting on the floor just looking at you, others mumbling in voices barely audible.
it’s okay though, because lately, i’m just plain tired of all the answers. everyone’s got one, or two, or four or seventeen. all jumping up and down with their hand raised high in the air and shouting, “pick me, pick me!” it really starts to wear a girl out.
and so i am content just to sit here, pondering, wondering, wandering. listening to whispers.
a little while ago, i went to the back door and smiled up at the moon. i turned and walked back to where i was sitting, and for a second, i thought she might follow me inside. i see her there now, hovering just outside the window.
but we both know that she’s not here to see me. we both know that she lives on questions.
i’ll send them all out to her in a little bit, just as soon as silence stops with the heavy sighs and the pouting.
and then i’ll give it a hug and tuck it in for the night,
with a kiss on the forehead for good measure.
because that moon looks really hungry.