Solitude and Sound

Even solitude fills the world with sound.
I am alone, the only person in
this house, yet there is sound. The house settles
and I sniffle and the dishwasher runs
and I whisper the poetry I am
trying to write and I tap away on
the computer and I shift in my seat
and the chair creaks along with me. But then
I realize silence is coming near when
I stop writing to think, so my fingers drum
lightly across the keys, providing
some background instrumentals to my thoughts.
Afraid it will never come back should I let it go,
I fill the world with sound, even in solitude.