Could be the enclosed garden
Just before the humming birds arrive.
The pause when the raised voices
Have said all & drained the air of peace.
The restraint & halt as Monk’s hands
Briefly stop above the keys.
The edge reached as one foot
Holds above the precipice.
And hearing the aftermath.
The physical walk that overrides
The walk out of your head.
The pen above the page
As the mind empties, lets go.
The t.v. with the sound off
As we entertain each other on the floor.
The just before.