Silence
by Billy Collins
There is the sudden silence of the crowd
above a player not moving on the field,
and the silence of the orchid.
The silence of the falling vase
before it strikes the floor,
the silence of the belt when it is not striking the child.
The stillness of the cup and the water in it,
the silence of the moon
and the quiet of the day far from the roar of the sun.
(you can read the rest of the poem here)
I'd like to add a stanza to this poem about the silence after the busloads of cheering children round the corner and disappear from sight, the sudden unnatural silence of the school building and our empty classrooms.
And I'd add another stanza about the silence of the house the next morning as we get reacquainted with each other over a cup of tea and to-do lists.
I would finish with a stanza on my knees in the garden, weeding the beets and zinnias, the silence broken only by the buzz of a hummingbird in the coral bells.
Buffy has the Poetry Friday roundup today at Buffy's Blog, and the July-December call for roundup hosts is here.
