70spoems/silence

THE SILENCE OF FORESTS

The young man
with words wodded
in his pockets,
shoes untied
and sleep in his eyes,
feeding parrots in his closet,
singing cat memory songs
on the sidewalk,
while waiting for the bus
on the wrong side
of the street,
his eyes a burned spot
on the paper,
he writes to me
from somewhere up north
saying, I love the silence
of forests.