A day of joyful, straightforward creation,
preparation for the week ahead.
bread and jam for the week and
lamb curry for lunch fill the kitchen with thick scents and
“I want you here” “I love you” “I appreciate you”
The evening looms large in the day, a chance
to stop and rest and eat the delicious fruits of the day’s
bread and jam becomes dessert because fresh bread is
better soon, this moment, this second,
And day passes into night, and starts over again.
Today I decided
to collect silence.
I closed the early morning calm
in a milk jug
I put the afternoon,
heavy and grey, in a jam jar
I took the little box
sitting on my desk from
some long-forgotten package
and closed it – thunk!
around a drawing breath.
And I took my silences
and hid them safe
in the back of a drawer
to open when the world is loud again.
the dark sits thick
and warm, a blackout-curtain blanket
The fire starts small
a few embers, glowing
like jewels in the ash.
it blossoms, crackling
filling the quiet night.
A log crashes
through the burning pile
settling into a soft bed of char.
Silence. someone speaks,
and a tale spins out
between orange-tinted lips
and the dark is less dark.
Time rolls back, centuries blend.
Forever is here, in the dark
by the fire.