My day unwinds in whispers a sigh from the west, Warmth from the lamp that refuses to sleep before I do. I drop the weight of hours and miles. My shoes remember every road I’ve trusted, and I thank shoes and roads that carried me through. The birds sing like they believe in peace. Their songs rising like prayers I meant to say. Hope swirls in an imperfect world. I list them, not for show, not for virtue, but for grounding. Gratitude for: The neighbor who smiled me back to here and now the sky has painted itself between the clouds. The breath that arrived without asking. I say, thank you. Thank you. Once for the day that came. Twice for the night that’s coming. And in that small, easy rhythm the room exhales with me, soft, and human, and home.