How you stay soft {a poem}

Small flurries of activity
in the day
in the evening
in conversations
and decisions
what's for dinner
who went off on whom
who laughed about it later
whose birthday
brings spring
the first sister
and whose surgery is soon
bringing all of you into
a new kind of orbit

This, the kind of chaos
I miss when they're not here
all of us, this small kitchen
and then after
though it wasn't my night
I put on music
that speaks to my heart
a heart that must have guided me
to that moment
since as soon as the hot water hit my hands
and the first notes came
so did the tears
I didn't even know
I was carrying so close
to the threshold
I let them fall
for a good and long while
alone but for the music
and the dog
who'd finally stopped barking
at her phantom fears

The question came
why am I crying
but I knew
I didn't need to answer
There's always reason enough
when you are a person
who cares
who feels
the losses
yet to come
as much as the ones behind
finds release in piano keys
and running water
and, finally, the quiet that comes
after the songs have ended
and the dishes have been dried
and put away
the quiet
the calm
you remember -
this is how
you protect your heart
and prevent it, too,
from shutting down
or shattering
altogether
this is how you stay soft