Later That Same Thursday

There is a constant drone gently tapering off

Something like horns, instruments of the wind

Long and drawn out

Haunting strings that dont last, without a break

Silence in-between, while I catch my breath

Peace, this is peace

Where I close my eyes, and drift

I cant stay here forever listening

I wouldnt if I could

Im momentarily conditionally present

Conducting business you might say

Until my name is called