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After her nightmare

the silence settles around my ear drums

like the lowest thrumming

of a tuneless guitar

I stroke my daughter’s hair

and feel the stillness

of a million leaves

and blades of grass

and ants’ legs

outside the window.

I don’t feel afraid

yet my pulse fills my

whole head dizzily.

In the morning

the sun paints yellow fingers

across the dining table.

My Mum and I

sit with our backs aglow

eating cold cereal

and reading a book

together, silently –

sometimes chuckling.

A book about kindness.

My daughter asks

for a carrot

and goes out to

chew in the shade

with the dog and his bone.