Pause

It is holding your breath –

an exquisite moment when

the steady stream of rain

plays in time to the lick of

yellow flames, a dish bubbles

in the oven.

You feel full and empty, a

quiet peace like a quilt embraces you.

In the pop of the wood you think of

all the people you miss – their

absence fills the black parts

of the night. The oven beeps,

a shrill demand and you

e     x     h     a     l     e.

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