naming the silences

The pause at the edge of the water at sunrise, before the birds lift off. An open door when the rain stops, its loamy perfume in the air. The wagging finger of a list but instead, lemon cake in the oven, a rebellious citrus heat circulating. Cafe neighbors, sugared by the relief of gathering again and what it is to be listening beside them, taking small sips from full mug. When the book is put away and the light turns off and the wait begins for sleep…