It is the twilight of this day (the light gone, early, to dusty grey)

Children are playing, outside, the noise of their delights softly muffled through the cocooning walls of my home, leaving me undisturbed, yet aware of the tenor of play and boys' emotions.

I am soft, happy, drifting...

alone yet not lonely

with my little people, just on the other side of the walls

soon to come crashing through the doors, 

rousing me from my soft deliberations 

once again the hub of their world.

(Oh, what fun and lightness to just sit inside, and listen for a while. Alone.)