Anthony Ward
The moon portrays silence hanging in the darkness.
After the day drone of cars, like cicadas,
Leaves a vacancy of sound at night,
Where silence hisses like white noise,
Your auditory canals capturing the echoes like the sea in a shell.
Absolute silence would be deafening,
Silence needs sound,
The tick tock of a clock,
Or the pelt of rain on a windowpane,
Otherwise, it would scream,
Braying you against the walls of an empty room.
Anthony loves the way words sound through silence. He is inspired by the nature of the world and the expression of art as humanity decrees to discover itself. He writes to express the overwhelming beauty of the natural world with the inspiring admiration of artistic creativity.