there are sounds
which shatter
the staleness of lives
transporting the shadows
into the dreams
raindrops falling
on leaves shatter
the dust of the city
as soap washed off
bodies shatters
the complacent dirt
she waited for him
to take away that quiet
she waited for his call
with the patience of a slave
woman quilting or a jewish mother
simmering chicken broth
there would be no other
sound than his voice
to shatter the quiet
of her heart
she waited for him
to come