When evening comes and settles on this house,
I walk through rooms where photographs remain,
Silent witnesses to years that have passed,
To faces and moments now held only in memory.

There is something about the natural rhythm
Of time passing, like water over sand,
That teaches us about the way things change,
The way we ourselves are always changing.

I think of how the seasons turn outside,
How Spring returns after the longest winter,
And find in this a kind of comfort,
A reminder that nothing stays the same.

In solitude there comes a certain clarity,
A chance to see what truly matters
Not the grand gestures or dramatic moments,
But the simple fact of being here, alive.

The night surrounds me with its gentle presence,
And I am grateful for this time alone,
For the chance to reflect on what I’ve known,
On the beauty that exists in ordinary things.

There is grace in this, I think,
In being present to the peaceful hours,
In finding meaning not in what we’ve lost
But in what we carry forward into tomorrow.

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Tim Carmichael was born and raised in the Appalachian Mountains of Marshall, North Carolina, in the small community of Spillcorn. Though he has never had formal writing training, Tim has been passionately crafting poetry for several years. His second self-published poetry collection, Beautiful and Brutal Things, was recently released. Now retired, he resides in Knoxville, Tennessee, with his spouse of 20 years, a Physical Therapist who works closely with occupational therapy in clinical practice. At 57, Tim enjoys traveling extensively, immersing himself in different cultures, exploring new places, and finding inspiration for his writing through his adventures.