That’s All

by Trish Saunders

Sometimes I wake in silence and don’t want to walk through another day. I’d like to sleep deeply, like a bulb in winter. Then I’ll hear something. The sound doesn’t matter, though I prefer a bluebird or rain over a door slam. That’s all it takes. I find some clothes, make coffee, go to my job.

6S

Trish Saunders doesn’t get nearly enough time to hike nearby trails or even walk in the woods, but she does have juncos, robins, and flickers in her yard in Seattle. They occasionally fly into some poems.