In every house there is an orchestra
The laundry’s song flute-like ringing when it is done
Clapping of plates upon exit from the dishwasher
Violins and cellos teasing whose footsteps are pouncing down the stairs The vibrato of a showers hum
The doors slam coming from the bottom of a brass horn
The breaking of vases in a viola’s perfect harmony
Sounding in the rests of silence
Moments after the harpist’s finger begins to bleed whilst apologizing first When the conductor has stopped the forte and shouts
The symphonies of tears, sheet music run dry
A split breath remembering the sound of a once harmonic wedding dance
Muffled rhythmic footsteps on a freshly vacuumed rug that missed a spot Flutes of remembrance whistling the tea she forgot to turn off
A violin’s bow performing in the wrong direction, stepping on toes Saxophones alluding to forgotten infatuation and the smoothness of divorce