Who Says Nothing Rhymes with Orange?

On the Importance of the Hinge

(Petrarchan Sonnet)

What a bit-part actor you are, door-hinge.
Yet even they can steal the show with lust
And perhaps win an Oscar, golden trussed,
Like your own enchanting shade of orange.

The unpolished smoothness of your ore flange
And the dark, empty screw-hole filled with dust
Add to your mystery. And if you bust,
Metal empathy I will have, poor hinge.

Your cousin, the knob, has irrelevance.
So too has his brother and friend, the lock.
The door rests its life heavy upon you.

Without you, how could it possibly dance
Or keep an open mind or a closed thought?
Without you, hinge, there's nothing it can do.

©1993 Dave Reynolds