Silence swallowed

Snow falls soft, a gray whisper

layering over cracked pavement,

quiet swallowing every footstep,

biting out the city’s clatter.

I stand on the corner, watching

flakes thicken, slow as forgetting,

blanketing noise, thought, and time—

a silence that buries names,

keeps the world in a frozen breath.

The snow lands, heavy but hushed,

covering cracks, folding the street

into something soft and unrecognizable,

a silence so thick I lose myself

in the weight of falling snow.