Everything contains some 
silence. Noise gets 
its zest from the 
small shark's-tooth 
shaped fragments 
of rest angled 
in it. An hour 
of city holds maybe 
a minute of these 
remnants of a time 
when silence reigned, 
compact and dangerous 
as a shark. Sometimes 
a bit of a tail 
or fin can still 
be sensed in parks.
Sharks' Teeth
written byKay Ryan
© Kay Ryan





