I remember the silence.

Oh I know there must be sound as well.
The care-worn carols and shop-cycled songs,
the buzzing toys and once-again movies,
cracker-blasts, popping corks
and washed down arguments that linger.

It’s just

as we walked, all of us,
through the slicing dark
and the houses,
surrounded by firefly lights,
waving Santas,
snowmen and stars,
and all the colours, seen and unseen,
there was no need to talk.

So whenever there is chaos

I remember the silence.