What woke him (Day 1244)

He jolted awake, half-risen 

from his pillow 

before his eyes opened,

leaning on an elbow, 

head cocked to better hear 

what had startled him.

And over the thrumming 

of his heart,

and over the rushing 

of his blood:

Silence.

Where there should 

have been crickets: 

Silence.

When cicadas and katydids 

should have filled the night 

with their baroque cacophony:

Silence.

Silence, and the trees.

Silence, under a wide, 

tar-black sky glistening, 

as if wet with dew.

© 2020 by Hannah Six