Paul sat in bed.
He read poetry to Dora.
It was their habit.
She was out of town.
The words Paul read aloud
bounced around the room
not having Dora’s ears
to enter and settle in.
The reverberation of those words
off the walls
vibrated the house
and the rafters creaked.
A leading word bounced
into the bathroom sink and down the drain.
Other words followed
the leading word
and the pipes rattled
as the words vibrated their way
to the old city treatment plant
with tectonic resonance.
copyright © 2022 Kenneth P. Gurney
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