Billy Collins

(22 March 1941 - / New York City)

Silence - Poem by Billy Collins

There is the sudden silence of the crowd
above a player not moving on the field,
and the silence of the orchid.

The silence of the falling vase
before it strikes the floor,
the silence of the belt when it is not striking the child.

The stillness of the cup and the water in it,
the silence of the moon
and the quiet of the day far from the roar of the sun.

The silence when I hold you to my chest,
the silence of the window above us,
and the silence when you rise and turn away.

And there is the silence of this morning
which I have broken with my pen,
a silence that had piled up all night

like snow falling in the darkness of the house—
the silence before I wrote a word
and the poorer silence now.

Topic(s) of this poem: silence

Comments about Silence by Billy Collins

  • P. Mason (12/20/2016 8:25:00 PM)

    I rather like this, there is a darkness about it that fit me tonight. (Report) Reply

    2 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
  • G. Akanji Olaniyi (12/19/2015 1:19:00 AM)

    Silence is an artistic practice and is even the noisiest form of art. Tfs! ! ! ! (Report) Reply

  • Kelly Kurt (4/24/2015 12:50:00 PM)

    Silence is one of my favorite topics and you did it justice here, Billy. Thanks for sharing
    (Report) Reply

Read all 3 comments »

Read this poem in other languages

Poem Submitted: Friday, April 24, 2015

[Report Error]