down the hall
laughter rings
bouncing off of walls
dipping underneath archways
coming my way
in the next room voices deep
in that room little ones are arguing
she pleads her case
while she stands her ground
the water running in that sink sings
along to the tune from that pocket
the twang hums
the birds chirp
the smell of toast taosting
wafting in and out
in this room tears
for the hard talks had today
and so many other hard things
from today and yesterday
and last month
and all those other hard things
and days
and words
and blood stained stones
hard things from so long ago
bags and wagons and pockets full
of yesterday’s sorrows
of yesteryear’s hurts
of long past offences
and a million years of loss
piled up here
in this space
beneath these beams
on top of my head
all the grace 