Silence

I know how silence traces with dusty fingers
Shelves and desks
And paints in somber grayish colors
Dark screens of monitors.
It swiftly streams along reluctant quiet keys,
Plays with the golden dust
In rays of sunshine falling gently
Onto my floor, and watches
Intently from the other side
Of a looking glass
Among tall slender vases - fractured shadows
Of lilac irises and
Dreams

And on the other side it's calm and quiet and serene
where oak frames imprison solemn faces
and polished wood of cupboards seems
a pool of mirky cold waters.
The venerable chairs' twisted backs
hide in the corners softly waiting,
The curtain of a carpet slowly drops
its purple bloom
towards a forgotten tome.
A lamp under a plastic shade
A glass of tea in etchéd-metal holder
A spoon,
A cube of sugar

Silence came