My House is Quiet

sometimes copters rankle the air

worry the doors, wind can rattle the windows

drown out a crow’s bitter argument

I hum my wordlessness, composed

like a rehearsal script

I’m down to a whisper

I had a sister

I’d call her and say do you remember when

I have an excellent memory, sometimes it is too good

I stood at gravesite, still as an obelisk

some weeping near me, the casket lowered

by chain and grunt down

into the ground

scrape by scrape, it splintered my skin

each creak breached the protective harbor of inertia

as dirt bludgeoned the wood, clod by clod

my heart cautioned me not to jump in

go home, it said, go home

to your quiet house

Florence Weinberger is the author of six collections of poetry, most recent These Days of Simple Mooring, winner of the 2022 Blue Light Book Award. Five times nominated for a Pushcart Prize, her poetry has appeared in literary magazines including The Comstock Review, Nimrod, Poetry East, Rattle, Baltimore Review, Calyx, Mantis, The River Styx, North American Review, and numerous anthologies.