The Quiet That Stayed

A story for winter.
On what remains when you stop trying so hard to understand it.

It wasn’t a revelation.
Just a stillness
that didn’t ask for anything.

You sat with it awhile.
No proving.
No pleasing.
No plan to make it last.

Outside, the branches held their breath.
Inside, you did too.

And for once,
you didn’t fill the silence.

You let it hold you
without needing to name
what it was for.