The dog is snoring. That's all I hear. Okay, I hear the wind outside,
But, mostly, life's gone quiet again. My daughter and her kids went
Home. My son and wife are at the store, and, in this vacuum, my
Life's changed. I've ceased to be someone, something, tugged
Along by exigencies, like a branch upon a torrent, crashing into
Objects, pushed aside and flowing on. I'm motionless,
Allowed again to fully digest what I see and where I am, who
I become when almost nothing acts on me. Another branch might
Grow impatient, might be bored, but I'm relieved. The old dog's
Quiet snoring seems a lullaby to me.