Silence surrounds her,
No sound of a car, no garage door opening,
No little girl’s voice shattering silence,
With gleeful gab of school day fun,
No performance of Hannah Montana songs,
Simply stillness, deafening silence.
She sits, watching sand slide through the hour glass,
Lost in thoughts of global pain.
He was the Mars to her Venus,
She was a mother’s blessed fulfillment,
Forever gone, taken by calamity,
Leaving her hypnotized,
The only motion a single salty tear
Sliding into the silence.
G. K. Bostic - 1/26/11