by JD DeHart
Bits of humanity
float into the yard
from the other people
that live around
I miss the casual silence
of living miles from others
I miss the sound of my thoughts
the knowledge that there would
be one or two times a day
a truck might come rumbling past
kicking up gravel
Sometimes no truck passed
at all, and it was just the sound of wind,
and after I was about seven years old,
the filtering through of shaky cable,
voices from the outside world
JD DeHart is a writer and teacher. His poetry has appeared around the web and in a variety of journals, including Gargouille and The Other Herald. His current blog site is http://jddehartpoetry.blogspot.com.
Belle Rêve Literary Journal is a southern literary experience. Our mission is to capture everything that makes the South and its residents unique through the best contemporary literature we can find. We publish new works weekly.
Passionately Ran, Compassionately Fed.