Silence

[Tanner]

It comes and goes and echoes
Eerily like the wind
When coldness visits the bone
And you are most alone
Incarcerated in the small cell
Of brooding thought

The stones my oafish brothers
Bathe often in its luxury
Remembering their lives
As bright fiery tongues
When they were full of speech
And you were nowhere

[MHenry]

Yep, the enigmatic beauty of a signature Tanner poem! Another four-bagger, Tanner!