Noise

Oddly, it wasn’t too difficult to diagnose the source 

of our uneasiness; - for sure where we live we can 

hear voices occasionally, yet no way they’re like a

ceaseless and unabating Shopping Mall roar 

What we are used to doesn’t approach it - but nor 

is it silence - usual atmosphere is an ambience of 

bird-calls with cattle prattle - & maybe a vehicle or 

two if things are on the road or going in paddocks; 

But there we were in the Food Hall - and although 

only a few inches apart - having to raise voices to 

be heard; to us, raised voice is a radical signature 

of discontent, unease, discomfort or distress 

Something to avoid at any rate - or prevent, if it’s 

possible, and we’re sitting in the midst of it; noise 

doesn’t mend a wavering sense of disequilibrium 

so we upped & fled - cherishing our freedom 

©11 February 2014, I. D. Carswell