Voices

They won’t go away,
The people talking,
They’ll never shut up.

For every minute
Of solemn silence—
Hours, years, of talking.

Librarians know.
Severe abbots know.
Without enforcement,

And often with it,
Humans can’t shut up.
Only solitude

Gives you half a chance
At peace and quiet,
But then you’re trembling

With the urge to talk
To yourself, to read
Anything, to write.

A pack of voices
Wanders off, circling
Your unquiet thoughts.