It was a pleasant surprise.
The cushions wanted to fluff themselves up. Become inviting, again. Yet, a part, a whole way of being, that allows absence in utmost present entirety. Blissfully nonchalant. Seems to prevail and swallow hands and humans alike. Day in, day out. Minimal perseverance and or persuasion from a variable. It was a surprise, and, it was pleasant. Perhaps that’s all it was. No more a waxing bellow nor a howling trombone. Pickets lining up to become fence. Letters swift in coaxing, yet invisibly not there.