Pillar of Salt

Your silence speaks to me like the wind,
Or echoes in a deserted old hotel,
Are there those footsteps on the carpet again,
What storm flies before the salt sea smell?
The silence in front of the television set
My needs unmet and yours as well
What was this life save a fool’s errand and bet
In which I never knew the bad or good, its smell.
An open door in Kafka is now about to close
I gesture and I do not speak but no
Sound was heard as the wind arose
Your white hair hid your face as it did blow.
Shall I step over the low? Shall I go?
Forget you not is not a flower, this is all I know.

Edward G. Nilges 3 April 2011


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