Silence

By Abby Mccullough 

I am a fan of the pregnant pause. 
A loaded quiet that demands time
bulging through the ears to be born again as words 
A moment after shocking news 
a pin drops. 
Delicious. 
The calm in the morning 
before the birds wake up, 
before the sun eats the dew on the window. 
Pitch black quiet 
the type when you peek over the top of a well 
into the unknown. 
The power goes out 
and so does the sound. 
The buzzing of LEDs and computers. 
The silent pressure walking under a bridge. 
The weight of the sound sitting 
right on the other side.