To my daughter unreal
A noon siesta, delectable,
Summer showers, the fixed swing
In the big marble hall always sings,
Swings, a lullaby , a coda
to your musical soft
notations within yourself.
She whizzes past around me
like a butterfly, in full throb,
propels me to play blind man’s buff,
a ribbon band to cover my eyes,
a childlike command to imagine
myself a band of Not seedy
observers and participants.
A bang at the door, a knock
gyrating within myself to see
my play mate, my butterfly,
I wake up to see a doll
nodding its face, to and fro:
I wake up to see this
Void around me,
Charlatan and some
still in torpor.
The doll in silk
Is active yet.
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