Noises Poem by Richard Williams

Clock
Stirs
Slowly, gently
Stirs
Knowing when it next will make its sound
Heightened senses bring me to its focus
Otherwise
Silence all around.

I strain
To hear
Straining, listening
No more
I cannot keep a hold of its soft ticking
Now another’s broken to the surface
Dripping
Dropping to the ground.

Loud
Slow
Water, falling
Basin sounds
I know why it would be a sickening torture
I see it glisten clinging to its faucet
Holding
Before it hurries down.

Time for some activity
I fill the water to the brim
Switch on and wait
Not long before
The kettle gives a dullish roar
A clang of blue edged crockery
A chip in that one dear to me
What thoughts I have
Coffee or tea?
Shall I cut down my sugar?
See?

There is only me.
Slow.
Pour the water stir it ever slow
Jingle jangle clinking singing
Sings a gentle rhythm to me
Tea is made
I rest the spoon
Against
The draining board.

And drink.
Glug. Gulp.
My ears are rushing with a sort of flow
The senses overburdened with my own
Noise
Enjoying my sweet
Tea.

Me.

Clock
Stirs
Slowly, gently
Stirs
Water falling hits the basin gently
I see it glisten clinging to its faucet
Holding
Before it hurries down.


Ring
Clatter
Silence shatters
Rackets
Spoon has made its way into the basin
Holding out for nothing it glides down
Resting
Near the plug.

Heart
Beats
Surprises me
Shocking
Living here within familiar silence
I was not expecting such a movement
One spoon
Has woken me.

(Copyright R G Williams 2009.)