With your silent words/ I sat/
Not still/Restless being that I am/
As Restless as a brewing/Storm/
I paced – I read/I brooded – I fret/
I pottered around/In my kitchen/In my garden/
Dashing up to your silent face/To wonder/To ponder
Every now and again/I dream/Sometimes – I scream/
With the computer monitor/Open in my face/
I sit/Fingers ready to jab/And jab/
I did/Endless jabs of silent words//
But suddenly somewhere/somehow/
There was a breeze/and the jabs ceased/
My mind was seized/but now released/
The silent words/The silent face/I’ll keep/
When parched/with the unknown thirst/unquenched/
Long draughts/I’ll drink from/them//
- Rita Putatunda
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