The noise abatement society

It's noise,

all noise.

The world spun around me

today like a demented beach ball.

Yet,

I found time to smile and laugh and be.

I smiled when I heard someone

say that the waiting staff in the hospital

cafeteria call me Doris Day.

Why?

I asked~

( thinking it was because I looked over seventy. )

Because you are lovely,

you are a blonde,

and you smile nearly all the time.

I smiled at that,

proving the point,

I guess.

Please don't think me vain

in saying so,

it's just that it was nice.

More noise.

I couldn't face it .

Bloved on the phone with his sister,

( who screams rather than speaks ,

which brings me out in

a rash.)

As he is profoundly deaf in one ear

this makes him scream back.

* Shudder*

Take all of this,

a * very* animated American

at the dinner table,

and me,

wondering when it would ever be quiet again.

It is,

now.

I'm in bed,

listening to Ravels piano concerto in G,

the closest thing to quiet I can get

into the noise bomb in my head.

Listen to it,

if you get a chance.

Lie on your bed,

( headphones on :)

and let the notes soak into your skin,

like honey.

On my nightstand,

a red thread

that I found,

and carried in my pocket,

all the day.

Before the quiet came.