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Poem 502 – Alive

/ BenDQ / Leave a comment

I hear the breathing of this house,
it’s silent yet it’s full of noise.
The creaking of its ribs as lungs
flex in and out. A clock, its pulse,
as blood pumps through its corridors.
The freezer’s drone denotes its thought.
The walls it wraps around me, an
embrace, to hold me tight and safe.
Later, I’ll hear creaking springs,
as it relaxes next to me
and dreams.

I realised late this morning, that I’d been home in silence since first thing, except it wasn’t silent, and I wasn’t truly alone.
(01.05.25)

© Ben Quant 2025

Poem 485 – First Up

/ BenDQ / Leave a comment

A book, a cup of tea,
Bird song for company,
And the breathing silence
Of a sleeping house.
The silence is alive.

Listening, I take stock,
Take note of vital signs:
The rhythm of its clock,
The creaking of its ribs,
Airflow through passages.

Slowly she starts to stir;
Occasional murmurs grow
In frequency and strength
Until a final stretch
And up, at last, it gets.

I was up first today, and had my breakfast on my own. This poem started then, both as a reflection on the quietness, but also a chance to play around a little with rhyme.
(14.04.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Liana S on Unsplash