Outside
It is quiet.
In the background
the clock ticks
on the kitchen wall
and the refrigerator hums
with life.
Outside is a different story.
The trees are as still as paintings.
Leaves and limbs frozen.
There isn’t a squirrel,
or a bird,
or even a red wasp.
No Fall butterfly
or young fawn grazing.
Just the endless green.
It is as if someone
stopped the world
and forgot to tell me.
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