Categories
Poetry

My Own Peace

Some days,

I take a deep breath

and ask the world to soften.

The world never does soften.

So I fall behind its wind,

and I find my own

peace.

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