(Untitled)
December night,
warm and bright inside.
Fresh arroz on the table,
Peas, so delicious, make it
stable.
Baked pollo, spicy shrimp,
outside the snowflakes
fall.
A large white cake, sprinkled
with snowy sugar and
sparkles.
A happy family birthday.
and
Silence Has a Sound
Though you don’t notice for all the
noise around,
Silence has a sound.
The whisper-roaring you hear,
Every time you put a shell to your ear.
The Hush-shush of skis on snow,
The shifting of an ice flow.
Marching ant feet,
making something, to them, so sweet.
The pop, pop, pop of an octopus underwater.
The clip-clop , clip-clop of a relentless
horse trotter.
The crash-clang-bang of a fight with
swords,
The power of a few words.
The scritch-scratch of a pen,
Telling not where but when.
Silence is made up of all the
sounds in the world,
Curled
In on its self.
Silence has a sound.
Silence has a sound,
the world ’round.
