By L Christy Helen
At dusk, as birds return to their nests
and children rush home,
the leaves fold in, and the noise fades to silence.
When the dust finally settles,
under the moonlight, I will be there—waiting for you.
I cannot see your eyes,
blurred by the water in mine.
I long to speak,
but emotion tightens around my throat.
As expected, silence drifts between us—
cold, weightless—yet I welcome it.
With you, even silence feels like a remedy,
a quiet cure for a day’s weary struggle.