the existence of silence can be found in depth of–
the stars; dead sparkling light enchanting.
the life can be found throbbing in the bell jar;
light, pale golden silver, of moon is hazed blue (from here).
memories of past, bygone hoods changing shape
with times–sometimes fireflies,
sometimes shapeless abstract figures…
the bray of heart, I heard, as I pressed both–
my ear, to pillow, and, my eyes like a hare facing danger…
life outside the jar dead immobile; inside lost vagabond…