Silence is Golden
Or so we say, breaking
the silence. But when said and done
what happens to words? I think they go
into the silence where there are none
the silence we ordered them to shun
There are thoughts you canít help
but must not say Ė
truths which, spoken,
loved hearts are broken.
Whether or not you loved me
I know Iíll never know
which is part of the reason I stayed with you
until you chose to go.
Whether or not I loved you
is equally unclear
unless love and need are so tangled up
one means the otherís there.
It happens when youíre not looking, and when you are
itís slipped away.
Itís only looking back, youíre sure it was there
or wasnít, or suspect
it always is, and that itís you
who is or isnít, while it bedazzles, everywhere
to lie together
one last time Ė
If you have any thoughts about this poem, Tom Vaughan would be
pleased to hear them