Poem #228 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie.

Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction

it’s so quiet
on the other side
of atmosphere

I can’t hear
the dog next door
or the car
that is coughing awake
outside my window

a creamy-lemon moon
looks at me
says nothing
it’s so quiet


the black of every where
of every thing
is a silent shade
that seeks a presence
by stealth

look down
at blue
the clouds
don’t even leave
a susurration

it’s so quiet
the only thing
is reassuring air
and I breathe it
as grateful
as a whisper

© Frank Prem 2018

Bachelard and me Poem #229: hearing

4 thoughts on “atmospherics

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