Silence

6/05/2011

The air conditioning blows noisily through the vents
as if paper cranes are flapping their wings against the cold metal.
For a moment, I am sad that I cannot hear the fall
of rain outside the hospital window: silver droplets
smudging the pines and sky like watercolor,
like a mourning dove burrowing deeper into its nest cooing,
cooing between lightning and thunder.


(Written for The Art of Paying Attention E-course.)