No Facebook. No X. Less news — especially politics and war. It seems endless, a kind of tinnitus. I move through the day in relative silence, reclaiming space, attentive again to the small things around me, freed from the relentless alarms of a thousand strangers.
Today, after lunch, I sat in the sun and drifted in and out of sleep. I need this quiet now — to write — so words may find their way to me from some far-flung future where all the stars align.
voices washed away
kettle steam and sparrow song
my soul hears itself
Written for dVerse Poets, Haibun Monday: silence. Some images created with Midjourney; all writing is authentically my own original work.©Misky 2006-2026.
It's Still Life 
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