The voicelessness of mimes in trees,
like toilet paper hung on breeze,
or choking back an ardent sneeze,
the subtle change as droplets freeze,
springs into life upon dead air,
transmission interruptus there:
where once was music shrill and loud
now hangs a huge but silent cloud.
Some spark or neuron has extinguished.
Aural lifeline’s been relinquished.
Sound waves flattened, noise turned white,
hearing distant, severed kite.