Noise

This is the summer of reunion in our family. For a brief period we are all together under one roof, with friends and visitors and significant others passing seamlessly through what might well have been an old house, full of echoes.

At times, I confess, I wish for silence. Perhaps a quiet house would have been more conducive to work and especially writing. But there are upsides to having a houseful, and God knows I will miss them when they’re gone!

Thanks for coming by to read!

If I were living here all alone–

No legions poised to invade my home–

If solitude–an enormous wealth–

Allowed me to live here by myself–

Or batten down a room or two,

Stiff-barricaded — brocade, too,

To line the walls and muffle sound

And stifle the city all around–

If only I could be left alone,

My thoughts and books would soothe the loneliness

Ensuing, as noise expired.

The silence, after cannon fire.

It’s darkest before the dawn, they say,

And families can be that way:

Chock-full of noise, calamity,

Till their absence brings insanity.

If I intended to hole away,

I’ve done it wrong. And cannot say

That I regret a single thing.

Let bodies enter, voices ring.

Copyright 2022 Andrea LeDew

For a short essay on how priorities sometimes set themselves, read Priorities. For a peek through a plywood peephole into a particularly rotten hurricane season, just as another begins, read Enough of Hurricanes.