An Ode to Shinshin

Her decibel falls into its own serenity Asleep under the blanket she made A blow of the wind creeps into the song of silence like a trumpet playing into a crescendo Bones that hold my home together settle and crack, piercing the calm The ringing of my ears is haunting as they search for common sonics now muffled I can listen to the rhythm of the spider's heartbeat in the corner The flakes land like little army men parachuting down silently taking over the area The voices of the grass suppressed; though ephemeral, their rustle will be heard again