Every morning
When I wake up
There’s a moment
When I can hear
Everything.
If I listen
There’s no longer
An inside or an outside.
Nor even, it seems,
The faint but total
Susurration of white noise.
Is the pretence of silence
A comfort?
Have even the satellites
Fallen quiet?
Then a dog barks
A distant caw.
I go back to sleep.
…………
James Sey is an writer, academic and art dealer in Johannesburg, South Africa, in the middle of lockdown. He can be reached at jsey@mweb.co.za