the hills here
melt out of morning sun
and sing of yellow
as if to say

another colour could never be
so beautiful
and there is silence
as I sweep

the wooden deck in long fluid strokes
that break the silence
like a nail file
against the air of nap time in a sleeping home

in these numbered days here
I am sleeping less
but am more awake
among the redwood bodies

and the skulking deer
than I am among
tall buildings
and tangled horns

my soul recognizes
the silence like an old friend
and tries to change towards it
like a chameleon on a leaf

my jaw releases
and my face uncreases
there is quiet here
this is all I could ask of peace

copyright – Christina Adler – 15 November 2008 – Woodacre, California USA