The afternoon is almost over
Pink light graces the sky
Settled snow, on leaves, on branches
Operatic music stills to naught
He wonders
Not what would have happened
Had he followed a grander course
Been a sharp-suited risk taker
But with ears ringing continuously
Even as quietness falls
He recognises, happily
That this is the kind of peace to care for
He was going to say; quite happily
But he stopped, thought a while
Then upgraded the rating, as though
He still worked for Standard & Poor
