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A Silent Place
The lights bend
As a single person approaches
The sparsely furnished hallway
As if they felt him.
The corridors are filled
With a deafening silence,
Before they knelt to pray.
And the suspended linens
Sway with a gentle wind
As the bell tells time
With its ceremonial ringing.
A brother, with a food cart,
Moved from cell to cell
And slip the daily rations
Through the windows
Set in the paneled doors.
They are not seen.
They are not heard.
They are situated
In a silent place.
poem
by
Buxton Shippy
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