Sunday, June 22


Sullen familiar, you sulk at my side
Seething, sighing, eyeing
Soft mouses eeking in their embellished houses.
Shimmering sideways at my half-sleep, sending your spherical spirit
Sallying into the stars.  Always a
Saturnine wing, you mean, cowardly thing.
So dexterously you glide, slide into a stranger’s guise,
Simplify the complicated then stir up the stagnant.
Somnambulous creature, I sneer, yet I fear . . .
Something startling about you—something
Sinister, you minister of ambition.
Still . . . stay, sweet strange familiar.

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