Listen: to the quietness.
It’s deafening/unsettling/unique.
The commercial corridors,
whistles/bells/horns and radio- gone.
Streets in the quiet space,
echoing:
“Hello lo lo lo.”
Catch the dregs of last crowds sun
quickly—
comes the darkness/quietness.
Empty streets echo out;
“Where are you all?”
Weeded in a new-apocalypse-look,
The window shops showing
Out of season looks.
But In this quite space I found myself.
………..
Robin McNamara lives in Waterford City and with over 45 poems published worldwide including being published in America with Starving Writers and Saccharine Poetry UK. Robin is a regular contributor to Poetry Ireland and Black Bough Poetry poetry prompts as well as being a guest prompter with Poetry Ireland.