What It Means To Be Happy

Outside, the small squawks of geese

settling to sleep in the March meadow.

Inside, one of the dogs snoring

softly at the foot of the narrow

stairs, and the last of the embers

rustling on the grate like wind in the dried

leaves of the aspen by the roadside,

pale yellow in the slants of flaring sun.

Half of her face obscured from the dim

light of the lamp as she drifts into sleep,

her feet beneath the blanket

relaxing by degrees in my lap.

Allen Hoey