she coos off to sleep in the other room we’ve loved & I’ve hugged her & rose, now she hums & glows thru the walls & recedes into dreams. the house sits clean around my kitchen seat— the day is done, behind me. on Nana’s maple table these: a vase of dried weeds, my teacup, my elbow, a gaze. unspoken thoughts are stitched into the grain. it is me unthreads them but only just now— this is why we need time. to bask in the prana when nothing bad presses. crickets clicking outside keep steady the pulse of night. if nirvana’s vast feast is no richer than this— I really see no hurry.