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The Art of Doing Nothing
i will just ll.
like leaves lean low in wind,
not asking why the sky
keeps its blue to itself.
i will just ll.
let light leak through the blinds
like a quiet kind of grace
on a wall that forgot to hope.
i will just ll.
not rise, not fall —
but linger,
in the hush between hours.
i will just ll.
like the last word
on the tongue
before silence wins.
“Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes, including you.”
— Anne Lamott
Copyright ©
Krishika Upadhyay
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