The Silent Voice

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Conversations between my trees and what they say to me.
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The Silent Voice
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What is that you are withholding?
What is that you cannot say?
These words that aren’t being heard,
Are only being told away.
A trumpet that blurts in distortion
Can scare any herd, any day.
Better to lace it with proportion,
Like a tip in a song, undisplayed.
When the throat feels tight,
When the tongue tingles,
Your inner voice will recite,
What you repress as symbols.

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