Their silence was a form of praise,
naive and blind to fits of rage that
surged within the massive faces
graced in stone.
I’m not alone tonight, he sighed,
I’ll make them smile,
I’ll light their eyes and lift their hearts,
calm the waves that sank their boats,
steal their dreams in words sung
dark and low, words that float in tears
they’ve cried – and when they’re dried
we’ll leave for home.
© 29 March 2007, I.D. Carswell