before clocks ticked loud
the sky kept a hush of blue
a small girl stood
sunlight poured like warm syrup
something settled
soft as dust on a doll cheek
quiet knew her name
and she answered without words
houseplants breathed slow
while grown-up shoes slept in rows
night-light blinked shy
a pink primrose on the sill
peace tiptoed in
curling around her ankles
heartbeat steady
like a lullaby hummed low
small fingers traced
the cool glass of the window
stars looked back kind
she believed they were listening
a hand found hers
paper-thin and peppermint
kiss on the crown
tasted of moon and mother
she stored the calm
in the pocket of her dress
it wrinkled sweet
later years unfolded loud
she lost the map
back to that three-year-old room
but sometimes late
the hush sneaks under the door
she writes the tune
backward, note by quiet note
trying to catch
the scent of primrose at dusk
longing is gentle
a shy cat asking to stay
peace still whispers
“i’m here, just listen softer”
