There is a pause which comes to the meadow each day.
In the time of the gloaming as the sun makes way
for the moon.
The gulls find a resting place
and the rabbits peek out of the bittersweet.
Storm clouds line up with the sea.
A light goes on so she can keep reading.
The pillow is tugged closer to the chin.
The chowder is simmering.
And the dog has given up her bone.
A moment all to myself.
From this chair on the edge of the planet,
with a line of round white stones to hold me back,
it is safe to remember.