Friday, November 23, 2012

sounds in the house of silence

(Picture by Edvard Munch. Night in St. Cloud. 1890.)


the faint sound of dust settling
fabric of loveseat
fraying

snag of the page turning
rips an almost imperceptible
tear that echos in the quiet

the swift
drifting of a bird past
darkening window
 
a single feather catching
in the crosshatching of the frame
that rustles against the glass

the graduation of colors
that slips from the crystals
of the chandelier

seems to almost whisper, rebelling
against the demure
fold of the drape

slam of door in wind
dragging of chair legs
over the uneven tiles

the faint rattling of dry
boughs that rustle
(bonelike) over the moon

these are the sounds that gather
in this house of silence
sounds that exist in this quiet

wordlessness

(like the wail of a flute
they resound
but are somehow
a part)

of the gathering

silence.




3 comments:

  1. I love your poetry! It's so evocative!

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  2. These are great words and drum up rich mental images!

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  3. What a crunching..rustling..piece..I could really feel the room..hear it..the subtle use of contradictions is very powerful..the sound of an empty house..wordlessness and silence..made me wonder if even just thinking words is sound..jae

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