If I had no voice but the force
of dreams like countless drops
of rain drenching the thick forest
bed, whose black trees
with fallen limbs stand
ready to fall, forgotten,
this mute darkness
could be borne for the night
until tomorrow, with the weather’s change,
the watchers would come walking,
throwing calls to hidden life
they believe is there,
ready to hear just one true note, however briefly.
If I had no voice,
would you still strain to listen?
if I had no voice
by troy cady
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