afternoon interlude

…watching a beautiful sky with a brisk wind flitting through the trees waving their leaf flags like wands. my daughter chatting to herself, golden hair a parachute of hope and innocent joy. my hands typing, fingers plying a trade of temporary solitude. the phone is silent, harkening and listening for crows. my heart is an owl, cloaked in midnight, basking in the thrum of its hunting wings. a stranger told me today that she admired me and i sat silent, a mirror. “there is peace in war, war in peace,” my mind races. i find myself in awe of rocks, their mute stolidity a testament to time and weathering the rough edges of oxide and tears. staying with the path i am on, walking in ruts sown by both hoarfrost and shade. her scent is still near and i climb through the crags of fear and hold fast to a kite of hope that may yet still set us sailing.