This is an interesting poem, all about hinges! The double spacing is the way it appears on the page in Perennial Fall by Maggie Dietz [811.6 DIE], and I suspect that spaces also act as hinges.
A book a hinge, the page a hinge.
The mind, this way and that, a hinge.
Your hand, opening the music of
the instrument, a hinge. The instrument
a hinge. The mood hinged upon
the song. The song a hinge. And you
and I--o metaphysicians--hinges.
The body hinged: the jaw, the lids,
the valves. The house a hinge, holding
things in and out. The moment opens,
closes, opens, closes. The night. The clock.
The thought. The heart. The door. The breath.
Very rhythmic, don't you think? I find it to be quite an appealing little poem!
The last Poetry Friday Round-Up for June is being hosted at Paper Tigers.