Joel Chace

from Mouth Pieces

 

Mouth enters  —  well, hops, really  —

into the academy.

Long, lonely  —  well, empty,

really  —  corridors.  Silence in

those hallways.  Two ears hear

another silence:  of ones who

don’t wish to be found, to be

found out.

The great hall is ornate,

unpeopled, terribly hushed.

Hand holds an unshelved  book that

won’t open.  One after

another, books that won’t open.

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