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Writer's pictureDarrell Troon

Off Grid

What is that sound I cannot hear,

no tv, computers or mobile devices.

No traffic noises or peoples voice’s

It is of silence, there’s nothing to fear

Silence was hear before men appeared.

A summer breeze gently whispers to the leaves,

of a nearby age’ed oak.

A mighty tree of a medieval age,

that has seen, and heard, many a thing

Even offered a limb, to dispatch the sins of highway men.

But the oak only shares with the breeze,

cause the breeze is more aged than he.

Now birds are singing their evening songs,

as darkness falls.

Then silence reigns supreme.

I’ve never before seen such a beautiful sight,

as a billion stars fill the heavens tonight .

All is perfect, all is bright,

it’s a little piece of heaven.

Where we find ourselves tonight.

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