Two Poems

'Then there was silence'

Then there was silence. And crying. And arms.
And trying to shut your mouth. And the new
shapes of the mouths of friends, their moving hands.
And the sitting and looking and hearing an echo
on the placing of bowls being prepared
for the washing, and noticing the shutness
of the hospital window, the trying
to open the window which wouldn't.
The someone saying it was peaceful. The way
Ivan tidied the table. Moved the sheet.
Picked up the cup. Folded the clothes. Put
down the cup. Walked out of the room
with silence. The sitting and staring. The hearing
the bubbles of sadness in somebody's throat
close-up and the faraway life of corridors.
...