The Silence of the Iambs Anapests sing lullabies while dactyls gallop on. Trochees beat a drum beat that’s heard hither and yon, but raindrops speak in iambs, dripping from the eaves as the torrent lessens and cups itself in leaves. All the small feet hushed now, we can fall asleep. We can find our dreams … Continue reading The Silence of the Iambs