Other Voices

(When we get what we’ve needed and then make it go away)


“How silently the heart pivots on its hinge.” ~ Jane Hirshfield

Other Voices

The house was not just any house,
it was of me and I of it,
intimacy was every sunken board,
chip and crack of age, and
today for the umpteenth time
the back door squeaked in
greeting at days end,
perhaps that my mind was weary,
and the torture too hard to bear,
that I took the cannister and olied
that squeak to a silence bare,
peace reigned in all but heart,
I missed that voice,
disturber of life,
provocative spirit,
it made me think.

© Paul Vincent Cannon

Via parallax

Among us, poets are not paid. The poet/editor of this website, being physically disabled, lives at a fraction of her nation’s poverty level. Become a patron of the fine arts at: https://www.gofundme.com/are-you-a-patron-of-the-arts

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