Along with the usual noises (washing machines, wind chimes), this house has other voices. Scratches, creaks, murmurs, all times, all corners of the house. Like a conductor tapping a baton, a critter's feet ticks out a path across the roof, lighting upon the shingles faintly. Beneath the deck, deep in the shrubs, a bit of digital-ish noise beeps & chirps, then drops out, an abrupt small wild world alive, persistent -- but each time I approach, silent, just out of reach.
Written for this challenge, this sonnet features words & phrases from this record review.