Void

How punishing the silence,
a presence of its own, that
battens down the corners
of my soul, binds my heart
unto itself, steers me into
emptiness, sharpens stillness
to the point where I wait for
the smallest of sounds...
a pin to drop or a needle
to rise through the cotton
of my shirt, prick the darkness
like a bell, tolling, rolling,
ringing news.