In the silence of the morning
As the sun rises, the colours of the landscape are transferred onto the water’s surface like a woman pressing her painted lips together. The dark line of the horizon implies another world, another word to be spoken. New shadows are born and stretch themselves across the earth as we pretend to be greater than we are. Like all things, they are fleeting. Even the old grievances, the stones we have thrown are now grains of sand soft beneath our feet. A gentle argument between birds makes me long for family. In a moment they will be gone, their music just a memory. Like the last goodbye: we hear it in the silence of the morning.