Trying Hard.

"At least finish your tea." He said.
Then the pages wouldn't feel so bad.

Around us now the silence hung.
Contradicting the repartee so long.

"The perspective is a star." I said.
"On still waters it won't stray."

"Let us not talk. Hold on."
"Start from where we begun."

The glances held. The thoughts frayed.
"What were we talking about?"

Such a state we felt at last.
"Put it down, come on fast."

But the birds few away and the day.
Overwhelmed, so still we sat.

"The tea is cold." I said.
And continued to tear the pages apart.