Quietiskept Four

Vintage Words


The story told must be met

with equality of voice. Quietiskept,

that’s the card from the stack.

The tone sincere & low, the nod

shallow & seen. Or standing alone

like a single key struck on a

keyboard hanging there and kept.

Often the beginning, a way of

validation, truthing up front:

Quietiskept, it happened like this.


Not silence or the components

of noiselesness. Out in the open,

behind a respectful pause, before a

finely woven explanation of existence.

What it was. Night air is too soft,

too invisible, too much finesse

that rises from the aftermath

to answer. Kept is dumb. Deaf

is too, quietiskept.









Author's Notes/Comments: 

This was one long poem. I broke it up for easier consumption. Easier to read out loud by aging lungs. :D slc

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