The Glad Daemon of Kalamazoo

Did I tell you about the time my heart

tripped over its trailing guts and

fell into your soul?

The rain fell softly that day, so steady

that its sound receded to the quiet

places behind my thoughts.

Fold me tenderly into your routine

Tell me I’m a lovely creature

As the hours tick by

Until my demise.


Black curtains are crawling up my spine

But Rose Red will tell you all about whence they came

When finally the hem-hawing of my youth rescinds.

Heather brushes my cheeks with scents

of happier days

As the light above my eyes illumines

your expanse

Furry Time cinches itself together

in a colorful pull

across your ancient brow;

Mad stories cuddle into smile lines

around your gleaming mouth.

Somehow, you rhyme.

And therein lies the shape of your first,

Glad daemon of Kalamazoo–and White Lake, too.

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