It’s time to shuffle through the lonely space
of house too big to fill with phantom noise.
The buzz of silence sings an empty grace,
unsure of hallelujahs it employs
a steady hum that draws me room to room
in one uninterrupted, conscious flow,
afraid to stop for fear it won’t resume.
It’s nothing; it’s the only thing I know.
I won’t deny I’m crazy, not tonight.
Her ghost was here but now it’s gone. It’s gone.
It floated where I shuffle, through the light,
and disappeared like darkness in the dawn.
My ears are blind from straining at the hum
of silence in the hope that she will come.