Bjorn at dVerse is hosting Open Link Night with an invitation to post a poem of our choice. dVerse Poets
“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 oiled
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
parallax 
Excellent poem on complacency!
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Thank you Lisa, yes, everywhere, though not everyone.
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You are welcome.
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Unable to reblog so am forwarding this via copy and paste to my readers at sister site Poetic Justice, with credit
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Thank you so much Ana ❤️
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Big hug to you
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Awww, thank you Ana
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🤗
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The quirks of our homes, our lives, become a part of us and we wouldn’t trade them for perfection. Good one, Paul!
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Many thanks Jill, and yes indeed.
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Yes, I know the feeling.
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🙂
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Silence, contemplation, and squeaks. sometimes those still small voices come from the most unexpected corners.
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They really do Lona, thank you for sharing that.
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Very beautifully expressed, Paul.
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Thank you so much for that Amy, really appreciate that.
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Paul, it’s beauty
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Silence is often the most disturbing sound.
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Yes indeed, disturbing.
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I read your poem several times. I think, ultimately, it speaks to stilling the most vital part of us for the sake of ease.
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Yes, ignoring the voice we need to attend to. Thanks Liz, appreciated your thought.
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Once again so very deep and filled with meaning that eludes me
>
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