Categories
Poetry

This Place of Quiet

I am here in the quiet, knowing I am home.

I am the same, in this place, as the windy trees

and the sunset that melts across the bay.

This quiet.

It is the porcelain wail of a newborn child, it is the aching

of a freshly broken heart.

I know it well.

I know this place of quiet so well.

elderly man sitting on bench in park during autumn day
Photo by Elizaveta Kozorezova on Pexels.com

 

By brookecutler2

Liver of life, lover of everything. 💕

2 replies on “This Place of Quiet”

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