purplish blue

habits are hard;
forming new ones,
breaking old ones.

looking out at the sunset;
quiet upstairs,
raucous noise downstairs.

it isn’t all about efficiency and maximizing
what utility does watching the sun set, with a friend’s dessert and a tea, have?

amidst the noise—literal and metaphorical—
there is music—literal and metaphorical—
there is less haze—only metaphorical—

the night descends
the lights—were they always on? are more visible
illumined

the noise—literal—has not abated
but perhaps my mind has
a peaceful night and a perfect end?