Diana Darby ** "I V" ** Intravenous

Silent Language

It is quiet
or at least there seems to be
no sound
of the spider making his way
to my thigh.
The morning light spreads across the trees
and I am here in the woods
comforted by heat and fabric.
Listen,
can you hear the leaves speaking?
They shake and dance like epileptic hands,
but what do they say?
No one can understand them,
not even the birds.