Exhaling

Poem Day 26

Provo sunset reflecting on Maple Mountain
the day after Thanksgiving 2021

Exhaling

Perhaps, it is the night sounds,
the ones that beckon us or drive us
deeper between the wind-dried sheets.

Perhaps, it the soft music billowing
from downstairs on grandma’s phonograph
or the quiet breezes outside,
the window wide open in early summer
to catch their coolness and memories.

Perhaps, it is just me, trying to see
through the darkness, thinking of past times,
the cooing of barn pigeons on the roof tops,
the whistle of the window through the cottonwoods,
or even the overhead flight of mallards.

Tonight, though, I lie tranquil, hoping
to hear the past seeping in
through the cracks in the walls,
a soft creak of the stairs,
even a brushing of weeping willows
on the window, now shut tight.

But it is quiet as if someone
is holding her breath, waiting
for the right moment to exhale.

Sunset in Provo, Utah, day after Thanksgiving 2021