Hot sun streams through stained glass branches,
cooled from bright white to soothing green.
I rest in leather chair, worn to my shape
by hours of stories heard, told, remembered .
Four generations of books build coocoon,
muffle sound, soothe, remind, inform.
Crystals, feathers, paintings done by friends,
journals, knitting needles, unworked yarn.
Peace, memory, possibility surround me.