Day 936, January 4, 2023

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A Rest

Rural life is sometimes quiet. 
Like standing outside and waiting for the mail truck to come. 

An automobile speeding down the highway 
is like a long slow cresting wave on the ocean. 

Taking the trash out at night and hearing a church bell tolling the hour. 

At night, 
beyond the periphery of light, 
there are always twigs snapping. 

One can imagine any manner of creature in these woods, 
lumbering, or trotting, or taking flight. 

A screech owl, or a neighbor’s peacocks, 
that will keep one’s imagination working. 

Sometimes, 
when it is real quiet, 
it seems like you can hear the river. 



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