“The Silent Film” by James Rose
I long for a Silver screen,
Actors moving in black and white
Gray, steel, chrome and silver.
I’d give up color for that silence.
The sentiment flows
With the stroke of an arm,
A caress sincere,
Of a hand well-versed.
This language of the body
Grasping the flickering soul.
Focus comes by slowing down the frames.
The theater’s piano plays a gentle tune
To follow the reel’s rhythm,
The picture moves to the tender notes
That takes us deeper
Into our silent world on the horizon.
Just a crescendo, a diminuendo,