On Happiness

"Are you happy?" he asks. And I don't know what to say. I am an anxious wreck of emotion,

and I am tranquil within it all:

The eye of the storm

watching the pain and fear and joy and

excitement and panic and worry and sorrow and

hope and loss and resentment and anger and

happiness

swirl around me -

mine,

belonging to me

but outside -

like a blizzard,

and my body

is a brick house

with a lit fireplace.

I am happy in my own way.

This is happiness, too.