So Quiet

I've had computer problems recently ... but who hasn't?

I'm not sure, exactly, what the problems were. Some things were working ... some weren't. And then some of the things that had been working ... weren't ... and some of the things that hadn't been working ... were.

I was somewhat confused by it all.

In the midst of it all, I had visions of being completely shut off from contact with the outer world. Oh, how quiet that would've been.

But now I'm back in touch (I think) ... and let's let it go at that ... 

Last night, when I finally thought I could safely consider attempting another entry here ... the title of today's poem came to mind.

It's another poem which preserves a family memory ... more specifically, a memory of a visit to the place where our grandson lives ... and of the good times Grandma and he shared ... and, of course, I was not left out of the activity, either.

I think the poem pretty well tells its own story:

SO QUIET

The house was so quiet
this morning when I walked
down the hallway that I
could hear the clock ticking,
thought I heard tired fireflies
grumping softly to themselves
somewhere outside, searching
the grass for a cool place
to spend the day, the cicadas
climbing their leafy green trees,
almost humming to themselves
in their happiness, thought I
heard Thomas breathing peacefully
in his bed, still dreaming about
that dump truck he and Grandma
kept filling and emptying, sand
tickling their bare feet, and I
couldn't help smiling at myself
looking back from the mirror,
ready to clap my hands and dance.© 2001

(received a third place award in a ByLine competition; now part of Hollyhocks, my second collection of poems, released by Finishing Line Press)
Today's word: grumping