Silence by David Herbert Lawrence
Since I lost you I am silence-haunted, Sounds wave their little wings A moment, then in weariness settle On the flood that soundless swings.
Whether the people in the street Like pattering ripples go by, Or whether the theatre sighs and sighs With a loud, hoarse sigh:
Or the wind shakes a ravel of light Over the dead-black river, Or night’s last echoing Makes the daybreak shiver:
I feel the silence waiting To take them all up again In its vast completeness, enfolding The sound of men.
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