The storm was still more than twelve hours out
but the woods hung still and silent.
There was no rustling of leaves
and the birds were voiceless.
Yet I could still hear
in my left ear
mosquito’s
whispered
buzz.
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Yet There is Method 
I was having a similar experience this morning as a spring snow storm rolled in. There were no mosquitos, but the dark-eyed Juncos were the only birds around.
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“The calm before the storm” is such a cliche, but its sticking power comes from its reality. It really is a neat experience.
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“voiceless birds”
You certainly have to wonder what is up when you don’t hear the birds singing. Your poem really spoke to the quiet before a big storm. I could feel the silence.
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It is an unsettling experience. The silent woods is a beautiful thing, but strange. I’m glad I was able to convey that. Thanks for reading!
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All it takes is that. One. Mosquito.
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Also – this piece reminds me of the prologue to Natalie Babbitt’s “Tuck Everlasting.” Have you read that book?
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If I have, it’s been years. I’ll have to visit / revisit it soon!
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Buzz
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