The Argument

The noon light was as grey
as the pigeon that sat on the bird table
pecking away at the seed
as diligently as she was trying
to make him understand
how she felt.

The morning was behind them
a wasted thing;
limp and tired out by their arguing.
The afternoon stretched before them
cowering; waiting for the storm
that would surely follow.

Instead it grew sullen,
became heavy with resentment
and screamed with a silent voice
at the approaching evening.

Take care! Beware!

But, the evening had other ideas;
it stole over them furtively
and the clouds rolled back
to show off the last rays of the dying sun,
taking them by surprise
with the deepest sigh.

Its rose tinted light
softened his eyes;
quieted the fear in her heartbeat
and a warm blanket of love
wrapped them around
for the healing night.

2008