Poem : Quiet / by Heather Taylor

My quietness
has a man in it,
tall & thin,
he stands at periphery
transparent
bleached magnolia
to blend into hotel walls
that mirror to infinity,
cut outs dotted along
motorways to criss-cross
islands, continents.

My quietness
has a man in it, 
he is transparent
watches words formulate
a swimming pool
in my head
a ghost of memory
finding solace
in silence.