The Silence of the Lake

The shore of Superior,
  for length of the day,
  is continual clamor,
  an ongoing bray,
    a distant crowd singing
    in words that are muddled
      a beating of drums
      from the waves closely huddled,
        crashing, receding
        and rushing back in
        one on another,
        perpetual din.

Silence becomes, not
  the absence of sound,
  but aural consistency
  heard all around,
    so much a part
    of each second and hour
    that sound becomes silence,
    its absence...  a roar.