Soft music slips past the screened patio door.
Out here, a faraway outdoor concert floats up to my second-floor safe place.
Backyard fireworks pop off at will. Not annoying. Yet.
A black sketch of branches scratches a deep blue June night.
Moths slip in and out of a candle flame.
This is the end of a quiet day, of walking, easy chores, cooking, blessings.
It is a gift I gave myself.
Peace to all.