gentle moments
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Some days the house forgetswhat morning is. Curtains stay drawn,coffee grows cold twice,and every clockseems kind enoughnot to rush us. Goosiferfinally surrendered to sleepafter bargaining with the moonuntil half past four. Tiny gums,tiny tears,tiny fists rubbing sleepy eyesas another little toothtries to make its wayinto the world. Today, we aren’t chasing schedules. The dishes can…
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By six o’clock, the house begins to exhale. The dishes are quieter, the toys stay where they landed for more than a minute, and the sunlight stretches itself across the floor like an old golden cat. The coffee has long gone cold. The cigarette burns slower now, not because life has settled, but because I’ve…
Between Bruises and Blooms 