Loud Silence

Silence.
Beautiful, prodigious silence.
Alone,
not soul to converse,
nor one with ears.
Thoughts, alone
gathering, forming lines
with only one toiling witness.

A red notebook,
taking rest under a large, beveled glass mirror,
partnered with a Mexican painting.
A black granite slab steals the mood -
contradiction -
an artist's palette in detail.
Simply a jug for water.

In the kitchen with a broken clock,
paints a surfer.
A wall bedecked with love, laughs.

The view,
bordered with white doors,
that similarly taste like a creme puff.
It is the ocean capturing all the attention
in the northern part of gold,
just a couple hours south of a little town,
where a hotel once before visited,
sitting on a green cliff,
is as silent as this room is,
today.