Be thankful for the far silence of the moon's phases,

someone else's summer garden growing quietly,

and old cartoons where no one spoke

or if a certain skunk did,

his story was always the same.

When the day is too loud with birds and crickets,

children shrieking under sprinklers in the heat,

or lawnmowers and church bells, competing,

just press the mute button, or turn down the volume.

Your imagination might fill in the words

and you can laugh silently

or like a child again, at the antics,

because he never finds the love he seeks.

The violence and the music will still exist,

just like the quiet moon, in another person's sky.

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