Cold quiet covers the land
preserving all revelry for another day.
People living, children laughing,
birds singing, dogs barking.
All this seems to be silent,
more than silent, almost calmly dead.
Ice forms on the windows
like some crystal painting
on a canvass of glass.
All seems serene on the outside,
on the inside life stirs anxiously,
awaiting the thaw of springtime.
When all will seem to new again.
People living, children laughing,
birds singing, dogs barking.
Will be music to the ears,
freedom does that to the living I've heard,
Stretching the wings so to speak,
like an eagle flying south,
on the wind. . . . so. . . quiet.
Timothy Michael DiVito c1983
https://e23black.wixsite.com/timdivito
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