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The Silence

Rating: 5.0
You always called late and drunk,
your voice luxurious with pain,
I, tightly wrapped in dreaming,
listening as if to a ghost.

Tonight a friend called to say your body
was found in your apartment, where
it had lain for days. You'd lost your job,
stopped writing, saw nobody for weeks.
Your heart, he said. Drink had destroyed you.
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COMMENTS
Samuel K. Lee 20 December 2007
I feel honored to inform you that I have translated your poem, The Silence, into Chinese. Click here to read it: http: //lidaitao.yo2.cn/articles/the-silence-philip-schultz-translation.html You can write an E-mail to me if you have any questions: quisten.li@gmail.com : -)
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