at star light

at times, dark, ripples,
a mad ringing drawing a line
in the empty atmosphere,
sheer difference, it is, between
silence and a traffic jam.

odd and indifferent are these sounds
which break a perfect thought amongst many,
the peripheral becomes so much so that
all that remains is perpetual.

things that were slow become a blur,
so much alike are all the senses in the dark,
a ringing is as deafening as the light at the
end of the tunnel.