My Poem ends…
Silence… just silence
Mounting… Surging…
A crescendo of non-specificity, riddled with portent
Silence
Although nothing, it exists
Persists by mutual consent
Content to sit and linger on
What it will not place its’ finger on
My poem ends…
Sam VanMusings 
Surging Silence. This is just brilliant. Don’t worry about lay-out or format…. it’s very potent just like this. Bravo.
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I’ve certainly felt the growing tide of imagined criticism in a lingering silence – perhaps each of us has.
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