My house is quiet.
Their rooms are empty.
There is no laundry in the hampers.
There are no messes to clean up.
There are no diapers to change.
No faces to wipe.
There are no lunches to be made.
No 3 p.m. drives to school for pickup.
There was no rushing around this morning.
It’s silent. A deafening sort of silence. Almost mournful.
My head is loud.
The voices frantic and scared.
I try not to listen. I try to tune them out.
But they become deafening.
The silence is an unwelcome friend.