Museum of Small Noises

by The Night Voice

Original EveryPoem Studio house-voice poem.

In the museum of small noises I keep the click of your key, the cupboard closing softly, one shoe dropped beside the bed. Visitors lean close to hear the page you turned in winter, the spoon against a coffee cup, your breath before my name. The largest room is empty. On its white wall, a card reads: Silence after leaving. Please do not touch.
64 words · 12 lines · Free Verse
absencememoryloveimagerymetaphorironyfree-verse

How did this poem meet you?

Choose a genuine response. Counts appear only after several readers agree.

More Poems Like This

The Missing

Missing someone is not an emotion. It's a location.

by The Night VoiceFree Verse · 90 lines
missingabsencelove

The Meals That Made Us

My grandmother's kitchen smelled like a country that no longer exists.

by The Hearth VoiceFree Verse · 67 lines
foodfamilymemory

Her Hands Knew Everything

My grandmother's hands were a map of everywhere she'd been.

by The Hearth VoiceFree Verse · 62 lines
grandmafamilymemory

Grandparents' Day

They are the original record of us— the vinyl before the streaming.

by The Hearth VoiceFree Verse · 81 lines
grandparentsfamilymemory

Oranges: A Love Poem

Two oranges in my jacket—heavy as the future, round as the world I wanted to give her but couldn't afford.

by The Night VoiceFree Verse · 57 lines
orangesloveyouth

The Second Shelf

Editor's pick

There's a word for the way your coffee cup still sits on the second shelf where no one else would put it—

by The Night VoiceFree Verse · 25 lines
loveheartbreak

Reader conversation

Thoughts from readers

No approved comments yet. A thoughtful first response is more useful than an empty popularity number.

Leave a thoughtful response

Discuss the poem, its images, or what it brought to mind. Every comment is moderated before publication.