No Malice Poem by Alven L. Robinson

No malice in the wave
just circumstance -
butter on the toast
beneath the red and green,
empty tables waiting, hesitating
faces, fingernails clean.

Twirling, twitching, darting
diva eyes chasing after looks,
invitation's crooked gaze,
the false delays, impression's
unread books, the phatic
interchange, pace rearranged.

A moment's pause perching
on a branch, instinct gone
awry, another fable dying
in the breeze, whispering
a tone, platitudes well shown
before the cause -

Wedding day applause -
all for love, threadbare above
the trial, the waning smile cast,
nothing said to wake the past,
dark woods forsaken,
a meadow song in waiting.

The morning mist beyond
the prayer, a chapel's fare
surrendered, each night
remembered back
now coffee black -
a coffin drawn.