morning light \ quiet starts
The light comes first.
Soft through curtains, pale across floorboards.
The room wakes before you do.
Movement is slow - kettle filling, water running, small sounds in the stillness.
No one speaks yet.
You move through these minutes carefully, as if not to disturb them.
Steam rises. Tea steeps. Coffee brews. Toast darkens.
The world outside is waking too, but you can't hear it from here.
This quiet won't last - it never does.
But right now, in this pale light, nothing needs you yet.
And so you move slowly through the morning before it becomes the day.
listen: to the playlist that accompanies this memory
