it's oh so quiet
here in the woods
that i do not fear
but it was oh so quiet
in the northern hills
but yet I shook

used to be so afraid of
nights alone and days silent
now so well practiced
in the art of the hush

a decade passes, perhaps another two
there is still meditation in nicotine
and although i am neither there nor
anyplace I am or used to be
I'm always here
breathe, you say
in and out
a smile
encircled
i think not of cutlery and car parts
i think not of
anything

could this bring peace?

do we fear peace and alas, boredom?
do we dig up old bodies just to gnaw on the bones?
marrow tastes fresh in death
my teeth sharpen as gums bleed

oh so quiet
and still
in the watchung hills
oh so quiet
and I'm so terribly still
in the watching hills