It is not only the house that takes a deep breath and relaxes its walls when the rush is done.
The coffee pot practices emptiness, inhales the fragrance of awakening, exhales steam.
Wine glasses gossip, the sharp tongues of the knives are quiet, happy to cuddle with a few stray spoons.
The good china settles on the shelf behind glass doors, relieved to have survived another season.
The refrigerator keeps its cool, savors the dark silence while the freezer, that abandoned igloo, enjoys having space.
Only the washing machine labors on.

(c) Linda Caldwell Lee, 2006. All rights reserved.