Morning, Truce

I rose before you did in that hazy half-light between dawn and today. In an anonymous window right across the street, someone else, intent on cracking an egg trying to make breakfast and already, an ambulance turning cold by the sidewalk. Paramedics hang around, squatting by the pavement. A few coffee addicts waiting for their shift to end. A light breeze enters to rearrange your hair. I closed the windows as softly as I could, for you to sleep on it a little more at least till your eyes dried Quietly, I cleared the pieces of a broken something, and after that, the rest of everything then returned to the sofa, pretended to be asleep so we could all lie a little longer.

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