The stream ran slowly,
rippled around my toes,
slippery rock, toes curled,
in a gentle afternoon
of nothing.
Kids run through the house,
video game, Disney, another fight,
stir the Macaroni so it doesn't clump,
in another afternoon
of everything.
Always a nightfall follows
between bedsheets, under ceiling fan,
turned to the wall, so I can resume
the silent conversation
from yesterday.
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