I see you have surfaced again, <br />like cicadas do when <br />the days get short, <br />or are they long? <br />When the moon’s orbit <br />truncates, <br />or was it quickening revolutions <br />of the sun that signaled <br />your advent? <br /> <br />Have a slice <br />of rhubarb pie here, <br />with strawberries on top <br />and graham cracker crust. <br />Have a cup of orange spice tea. <br />While you’re at it, <br />pour me some <br />apologies. <br /> <br />There’s no ghost <br />like an old ghost, <br />a spector loosed from <br />the jewel box of the past, <br />all a-twinkle with costume pendants <br />and rhinestones unglued. <br /> <br />Have your tea and go. <br />These are years <br />that my soul craves constance. <br /> <br />These are days <br />when fair-weather friends <br />and birds in perpetual flight <br />rattle me and make me say: <br />Stay.<br /><br />Sonny Rainshine<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/slippery-guest/
