I wrote this on April 24, 2019

The night was beautiful
Moon was full
It was oh so peaceful


The uproar
the anger
the frustration

Not a clatter
not a clamor
not a racket.

The deafening silence
the dreaded noise
forming a rhythm
boiling the blood.

Wasn’t a dog howling
nor a cat meowing
not the bear growling
or a donkey braying.

It was the beast
hell bent on destroying the beauty.
The beauty of the night
the beauty of my sleep.

The night, far too young
as I tossed and turned
all a bit much to bear.

Patience, it went awry.
Pillow, it went soaring.
From my hands to his face.

Then it stopped.
Complete, total silence.

Bewildered I stood,
donning a slight, victorious smile.

The beast, it was done, gone, slain for life.
Or so I thought.

Till my husband turned
and began snoring again.