You see they are not silent

Like a row of windows at twilight
Or a circle of charred wood, stones

You see like dreams they are private
No matter the traffic the descriptions

Though iridescent between hedge and pine
Upright in the garden

They never will mirror you
Only absorb you

Only send back this blue
Perfectly still, and as strict

As a note held
Back in the throat

Rising beyond the body,
So what you hear in the garden

You later will hear inside
At night in your own voice

I am awake Do not touch me
I will be awake all night