Th e m el o d i ou s s i le n c e of wood s Buff Whitman-Bradley In the melodious silence of woods We listen for nothing at all For the absence of snarling machinery And the siren’s strident call For the sacred space where telephones Are sweetly completely away Where audio-video chatter Does not invade the day Where sylvan communal unquiet Replaces the headlong rush Where the calls of sparrows and scrub jays Amplify the hush Where a kingfisher’s vivid screech And the crack! of an oak’s old bone Welcome us to the hubbub Of the silence that is our home
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