The undone action,
pending post,
floats through the consciousness,
as a dust mote
trans-versing a beam of light.
It is not regarded
yet ever present,
the detritus of dreams
and waking moments,
preventing peace.
The spirits of future events
refusing to be silenced,
drifting in on unrelated tides
to bump annoyingly on the mind's shore.
The undone action
can be of little consequence,
but night hours twist it out of shape
until it is a monstrous looming,
magnified behind its illuminated screen.
Daylight shows the impostor
for what it is and yet
it lurks at curtained edges,
waiting to charge to center stage.
Self talk verbal tick repeats itself,
the interchange continuing
without conclusion.
When at last
the undone action
becomes itself undone
by being done
it settles to the mists of memory,
but not before tag teaming
a similarity to take its place
renewing resistance
of peace's reign
within our fought for minds.
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