The world stands mighty still

the world stands mighty still

like a door swinging off its hinges

bust open like a weeping sore

bare, ready to heal.

balmy evening skies soak crisp lawns

freshly painted, manicured

nails scratching at the jet-sprayed slabs

of suburbia.

morning tones are a mix of silence

and the breathy earth panting

suddenly able to catch its breath

unchoked, unstrangled by smog

sitting pretty

air dripping with peace.