Nothing but Silence

There is a place,
not far from here,
where I can go
to escape,
the distractions
of life.

In the heat of summer,
when the spring rains
are just a distant memory,
the path seems more desolate,
dried grass rustling under foot,
the dust rising
small clouds,
the only clouds
I’ve seen for days.

The only voices here
are the ones I bring,
my thoughts
too loud for this place,
I release them
from their prison
until there is nothing,
but silence,
and the incessant scream of the cicada

© Michele Markley 2010