The quiet

There is no porcupine head to kiss tonight.

No dishes to pick up as I circle the living room tossing the cushions back into place and adjusting the drapery.  There are no socks to gather, no wayward items of clothing to fold.

Tulips poke up near the window in a perfect spring-time hurrah–  picture perfect snowy landscape on the other side.

I’ve set the breakfast nook with a tea service for the morning, climbed the stairs and listened.  Nothing.  No television playing too loudly.  No music I don’t understand.

It’s the quiet evening I wished for on so many evenings when my son was young. And tonight, for some strange reason, the quiet seems so loud.  Image

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s