The silence is itself a season, and almost unbearable.
No birds chirp in the cracked, barren trees.
No greenery springs out of the loud silence.
It’s almost as if the smooth, white coating creates the silence
that only breaks with the ache of a tree
or some unbearable
noise—the deep dinging of a microwave, the unbearable
sipping of hot cocoa outside, watching for a sliver of movement in the trees
or bushes. The barren bushes with little to no critters breaking this loud silence
that can only be heard by creating more silence
that everything attempts to listen to—the trees:
the towering but desolate oaks.
The birds: the chilled blue jays and nesting cardinals.
The animals: hidden squirrels and rabbits.
All listening carefully to this deafening, unbearable,
smooth, white silence.
Grade: 6
Bethesda, Maryland
Washington, DC
Marie Lu
To be an astrophysicist
Neil DeGrasse Tyson