Poems, Personal Stories, and Observations

Silent Hours

The streets silent and still.
Families away: spring holiday –
Or is it a resurrection?

No shouting voices,
Nor school buses.
No parents patiently waiting
For school to get out.

I meet more people
Out for walks.
Perhaps they’ll
Take the time
To smell the flowers.

How healing
Are the flowers
And the silent hours.

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