Sound

Little musing poem at 2 in the morning because I have inconsiderate flatmates who think noise is best turned up loud.

I wonder at sound.

What is its purpose?

Why does it exist?

Surely since the deaf live without it,

It is not essential to life?

Does it have substance?

Does it have cares?

No, it lives without life.

Then I think of a world without sound,

The silent film, the deaf man's life

And I cannot imagine the absense of music

Of speaking and clapping

Angry slams of doors

Birds singing, wind whistling

Traffic blaring, people caring.

If absense of sound is possible,

Surely it is not pursued in earnest?

If so, take the deaf man and sign to him

That he's not missing much.

Do you sign with truth?

Could you live a life

Devoid of noise,

Devoid of life's voice,

Devoid of sound?

The End

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