wandering around the house at midnight,
on a secret mission
or something else i’ve forgotten) --
i am akin to silence:
we are partners in the night....
creeping through her,
(silence, yes, feels like a ‘she’....)
with her, around her,
we do our care-full duties....
stir the windchimes on the deck,
drawing my gaze outward:
silverglow from the moon,
muffled under wooly cloud,
even birds hunker....
silence and i pause on our rounds
and take in the breeze,
the hunkering birds,
and we hug ourselves just a little bit –
grateful for shelter,
and each other....
beth anne boardman