Whispers

Poem of the Day:
"A Winter Morning" by Ted Kooser
Delights & Shadows


A Winter Morning

A farmhouse window far back from the highway
speaks to the darkness in a small, sure voice.
Against this stillness, only a kettle's whisper,
and against the starry cold, one small blue ring of flame.


I have an air conditioner in my room that I run every night. I need to be ice cold in order to fall asleep.

The air conditioner is fairly loud. It hums softly, but emits some, for lack of a better word, gurgling crashes of sound.

Yet I have not once been woken up by my air conditioner. Despite claims of being the world's lightest sleeper I have slept soundly every night, cold and sonically peaceful.

Perhaps my air conditioner is Kooser's "kettle's whisper" coming up "[a]gainst the stillness," nudging it slightly, but not breaking it. It is a welcome whisper, a soft chatter of which I can't understand a word. But I stay asleep, sound asleep, rocking in and out of the window-side motor gossip.


Sincerely,
A Poem A Day Audrey