it had been quiet for a while

the debris, perhaps placed
to the side of the room
or hidden from view

clouds had been swept away
no longer masquerading the light and sun
drawing shadows and stick figures

the crashing waves had quietened
redeployed sand and shells settled
in spite of the lunar tidal tryst

the whistling winds had abated
and the low pressure system
moved away off the synaptic chart

and in time this will come again

for now and then

veracity