Sometimes I think I hear music

just below the hum of the house,

as if an orchestra were tuning up

or wrestling with its separate intentions.

I open the front door to check

for radios, or the neighbors unrest,

but the sound is within something

close by, behind an unseen door

not thick enough to hide

the wild intentions of a place

just on the far side of my awareness.

It’s happening just beyond me.

I hear it sometimes.

I want to find it.

I want to open the door.