The Symphony

This is the sound of the world.
The eerie absence of a power outage,
When the fridge shuts off, and the lights stop humming
And you realize just how loud your world really is.

The making of us is noise,
The pumping of blood
Crackling electricity through tingling fingers
The noise of pain,
The noise that keeps you up at night,
Whatever noise that may be.

In the fading light, Anna teaches me the guitar
And where to press and hold and pluck
And what sounds are right, and which are not
She doesn’t teach me that half a song is silence
Evey hold between a note,
A symphony.

cms, 23, America.