Thursday, July 30, 2009

As I Sit Here...

Legs crossed,
feet tucked in,
a toy poodle in my lap, whisper-breathing.
The rhythmic hum of the dishwasher lulls me.
An odd thump here,
a creak there
from feet moving across the upstairs floor.
Water droplets trickle into a drain.
Someone turns on the water
in a second-floor bathroom
and it rushes through the pipes,
reverberates through the walls.
The air-conditioner wakes with a thud,
exhaling cool breath into vents.
A quiet house, alive with noises.

(c) Rebecca J. Gomez

4 comments:

  1. I *love* that poem! Thanks for sharing it!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thanks!

    Funny how noisy a quiet house can be.

    :-)

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  3. Nice oxymoron in the final line.

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