by Dawn Schout
This wall drips with silence.
Scuff marks are tape over mouths.
Hit me and I’d respond too,
a white so loud you would have to shut
your eyes, a blackness
so deep you can’t tell
where it ends.
Cover up the hole
but I know it’s there, ready
to cave in
with the slightest
amount of pressure.
Dawn Schout won first place in the 2008 Lucidity Poetry Journal Contest, and her work has appeared in Fogged Clarity, Glass: A Journal of Poetry, Lucidity Poetry Journal, and Tipton Poetry Journal. She has a BA in creative writing and lives in Holland, Michigan.

© 2010, Dawn Schout