Silence Poem by Vida Nenadic
Silence
He knew that the one
who shoots first
is more likely to survive.
Thus in agony
he took the first shot.
His blood nowhere, not a spot.
It was time alone
that dripped on the road
from his eyes.
The howls of a dog were distant and long.
A wolf as well it might have been.
Yet silence that followed few could have foreseen.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
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4/19/2024 10:43:02 PM # 1.0.0.1119
