The birds this morning,
On one side of home
Sing –
Their tune saccharine
Layered upon the quiet of dawn
The stillness of which
Is startling
And inside,
The children sleep
With luck;
Their mother cajoled
Into belief, that
Today – we can begin again
the composure of first light
Captured, held close, and
Used,
To sustain the day
With forbearance, admirably
So that when dusk greets her –
Her heart, untroubled,
Will stay;
Her legs won’t carry her out
In the search for serenity
Beyond the walls
Of home
Gabrielle Gassin 
“If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.”