Disoriented, I paused at the door
Struck in the face by the startling sound
Of silence
(in Oklahoma, where wind's furious wailing never ceases)
And the bite of solidified evaporated reservoirs
(in Oklahoma, where all the lakes are imaginary, or at least invented)
in Decembrish air that for once was still
(for once in its life, I would say, but air is not a person, just a thing)
(and I'd have said "breeze" by default, but it was still for once in its life)
and the sound of silence was like an inverted slap to the ears:
instead of ringing in the head, I heard the stars whisper