Sitting crosslegged
on the deck outside my bedroom door
sun warm on my face
on my closed eyes

I hold morning in a white cup
right hand supporting handle
left hand supporting rim and base
my shoulders curving slightly forward
as though I shelter something sacred

then a small cloud passes over the sun
a wash of cool blue

I place all that worries me
all that is unresolved
invisibly at my left side
place my coffee cup at my right side
left wrist angled over knee
right hand curled loose in lap
release my shoulders
and their ache subsides

to my left the wind rises in the poplar tree
on my right
the wind chime offers two hesitant notes
I open eyes

the white geranium looks back at me
and the white dog is trotting home
from his morning rounds


Elisabeth Hallett is the author of two nonfiction books, In The Newborn Year and Soul Trek, and sometimes a poet. A mother of two, she maintains a website devoted to the mystery of pre-birth communication,at LIGHT HEARTS