Looking out the window the only sound I hear is the hum of the Pellet stove that warms the room. Amidst and amongst those at the table faces of folks at war with themselves for so many years that they had forgotten why heavy their burdens hard to carry no one able or willing to lift a finger to help but if you listen carefully to the moments within the silence you hear them one by one utter little bits of gratitude for family God the tender caress of kindness sobriety life death Looking out the window the only sound I hear is the hum of the Pellet stove that warms the room On the other side of the window rests a barren snow covered terrain its naked trees immovable and still a brown leaf floats to the ground I ponder who have you touched on your way through life? who's life has touched you?
