.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
silence

by Adam Boren Bennett

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Born and raised in the San Gabriel Valley, I currently reside just east of Pasadena.  A very quaint, hardly quiet little town.  Beautiful mountains absorb the heat, much like my house.  I find myself shy at times. It’s disturbing when its the silence that echoes. But when I am not, I jump from building to building, having fun as I travel. Neither good nor bad, and both at the same time, I find time to mingle with the gods.

 



The cats lay

comfortable

What else is there to life?

 

Silent and still

pondering

Involving themselves with own thoughts

 

The skies turn red

And the sun boils

Heat rising from the ground

 

Silence and sleep

among all tonight

What's left of life?