The street is quiet.
Ten o’clock and the sun
Has begun to warm the air.
I unbutton my jacket.
Strange, I did not register this stillness
Until this moment.
Where did the street sounds go?
Has this tranquillity awaited my awareness?
I close my eyes to better appreciate this hush
That captures all of creation
To which I may gain admission
If only I keep from grasping.
A car turns the corner,
A lawn mower starts its mission,
Announcing our respite is over.
I sense the quiet will come again
If I keep from grasping.
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