Silence by Frances Koziar

I have aged a decade in the silence;
it presses on my ears like new neighbors
knocking on my door; I walk
from our house to your grave,
hear no difference in the emptiness
of either—no voice is raised
in endless questions, no small hand
clasps mine—the day
is so beautiful the world must not
believe it either; you took
the music away, took
the mess of love and life
away, and in their place you left
too much to forget: hopes
withered like dead flowers
on the mantle, shadows
flickering through the watery lens
of my tears; in the silence,
ears too long attuned to noise
hear echoes from the past, shrieking
laughter that yet trembles the torn silk
of my memories

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Frances Koziar  has publications in 30+ literary magazines, and is seeking an agent for a diverse NA/YA fantasy novel. One of her poems shortlisted for the 2019 Molotov Cocktail Shadow Award Contest, and her poetry has appeared in Acta Victoriana, Snapdragon, and Shot Glass Journal. She is a young retired (disabled) academic and a social justice advocate, and she lives in Kingston, Ontario, Canada.  https://franceskoziar.wixsite.com/author

Photo: Brittani Burns