Pain ceased
and the world was new again,
the majesty of old trees
with fresh snow on their limbs,
the mailbox with its flag up
under the weighted pine,
the smell of the pond
still open where the spring runs in,
the cardinal in the laurel,
the text from your child,
the warmth of your dog,
the concern of your neighbors,
all the wonderful small things
you've known for fifty years
in one place,
the familiarity of home,
the work of your own hands,
even as it's falling in around you.
