Quiet

Quiet

By John R. Greenwood

I’ve come to embrace quiet.

Quiet unlike silence includes 

the steady hum of the clothes dryer 

in the other room. Pre-dawn, when 

the traffic is sparse the tic and tock

of a wall clock whispers a familiar rhythm. 

It’s November, the heat is on. 

The faint cracks and clicks of the 

warm flowing through the metal vents

remind me to be grateful 

for the roof above my head.

Quiet allows mindful thought, while the brain 

stretches and idles gently beside.

The best quiet is made of layer upon 

layer of distant sounds. Soft and soothing 

sounds that carry no threat nor angst.

Peace and quiet are rare, like the quiet knock 

of a childhood friend at the backdoor.

A friend you haven’t seen in years. 

A friend you dearly miss and weren't expecting.