the new silence

There are times

when the heart closes down,

the metal grate drawn

and padlocked,

the owner's footprints covered by snow.

Someone may come to peer through the glass,

but soon leaves.

Someone may come to clean, but turns away.

What is still inside

settles down for the darkness: clocks stop,

newspapers pass out of date.

The new silence goes unheard

under so many grindings of engines,

so many sounds of construction.

Only three pigeons, 

refusing to eat,

lower their heads and grieve.

~ Jane Hirshfield

from Lives of the Heart