a baby blue breeze,

gently slows the tides within,

conflict turns into a cushion,

the anger into an arm chair,

the traffic separates while the road grows wider,

the domestic dispute in the apartment above evolves into,

a puddle of smothered voice

a moping bathrobe drags behind procrastinated thought,

sleep walking words from others hover outside the margins of concern,

dims down the spot light,

allowing a cradled palm of tea lights to show the way,

shadows lose their rigid outline,

a once sense of strict accuracy, now a tourist guide with no map,

an afghan over the chill,

a mitten over the frostbite,

the search for the answer forgets the question,

a swing set in slow motion,

moist chips misplacing crunch,

ginger ale abandons bubbles so not to bother with a hiccup,

scattered absent tension delivered,

a soft moon winks at noon,

rest is home now,

you're welcome to do nothing


Poem by : Bryan Matthew Boutwell at Livefiction.net