“Veracity – VI”







What worked before
no longer works
voices of others ring
with veracity with value
mine idles
in silence
the rooms echo
in silence
the light bulb throbs
the refrigerator pulses
like a pair of lungs.

Hollow sweetness
strokes my face
black night’s
white moon
whose silence
hums along
my ears buzz
with the refrigerator.

The minutes tick
the hours
cobwebs whisper
mute corners
have all the answers
I don’t ask but
the ring pulse throb
hum buzz tick stroke
declaim unbidden.

What was so fearful
I thought
clamouring to be
filled silenced
voiced over
sweet emptiness
familiar friend now
merely nods
in easy



– Diane Sophrin
  Vermont. 11.28.20


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