Convice-a-versa

There was too much to say 
and no single string
to unwind the entanglement
they had become bound by.

There was no effort to try an utterance,
no thoughtless pennies lying around;
that whet glimmer gone out-thirst quenched
that kindled glow to dull grit, brackish.

Nowadays, 
they say so little about much to Be
done differently, they insist
resistance is futile, 
the pinned up smile, better
(n)ever?

And so, the silence stood for resilience,
for this speechless return, old friends 
in darkness, happenstance
this ends loneliness for this time.

Gentler thoughts could do-(no)
Better. 

Painting by By Felix Nussbaum, 1943 (https://www.tumblr.com/search/Felix+Nussbaum) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Less is More, More or Less

There have been difficult times
I knew the right thing to say
and I honestly don't know how I knew
the exact words to highlight what had been hidden.
There have been less
trying times, I said
                 Nothing
not knowing right from wrong.
Between these
Ends
all the good times evade precise
meaning
over
time
the bad days try to remind us
how easily opinions change in the sun.
The only words left
spaces between.

Painting by Edward Robert Hughes [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.