Still and soft, it hangs delicately;

A little strained, a little tense,


Peaceful, it drifts, swinging in the breeze;

Swaying unconsciously from light

To dark.

Blindly it ponders the thoughts inside;

The meaning in what goes unsaid

By friends.

It caresses the mind, unjudging;

An observer of all our words,


Yet we always feel its presence,

Whether awkward or calm, list'ning.