Rose Marie Eash Alone

Alone

Not silence -- but the hissing sound of no one.

A creaking house wheeling you around a catch of breath fear of seeking the sound.

Noises not heard when someone is near -- a drip of water from the faucet a refrigerator’s lips meeting in a kiss the insistent whirl of a clock's second hand.

The dull hollow voice of empty rooms and closing doors. At night a whimpering bed’s whispering sheets the sigh of a pillow --

the click of a lamp bringing down the dark and the echoing beat of a singular heart.

Rose Marie Eash

Rose Marie Eash is a recently retired Texas public relations professional whose poetry has been published in Canyon Voices, di-VERSE-ity, and Voices Along the River.