paying bills

you settle in
at the big table.
the bills, the check book.
a pen,
stamps, envelopes.
it's a small stack
of correspondence
not quite over due
but leaning in that direction.
you make coffee.
you turn on the light,
you sit
in the quiet of your
house and do
this simple thing, this
ritual
of life, listening
to rain, your heart
beat.
the pen across paper,
sending them out
like crisp
paper kites.