Her creased brow looked like a furrowed road.
His darkened eyes were to Anger an abode.
Silence, the referee, blew the whistle that night
She took the left corner, while he took the right.
As Night limped along slowly, dragging second by second,
By Righteousness and Indignation, the warring factions were beckoned.
The audience of stars did the slanging match, brightly jeer
As an echo of quarrelling reruns repetitively did they hear.
A tired Morning reluctantly awoke to daily routine.
Some old habits and mechanical actions were seen.
The gesture of reaching out, even if for the paper,
Brought to a head last night’s bitter caper.
His head leaned forwards towards her shoulder
Just for an instant, the frosty air turned colder.
Then Familiarity brushed off the hurt of one so dear
And Love wafted back on the cup of morning cheer.