in your own words
it’s getting late and the demons
have agreed to return
after being away for so long
it’s late in the day
early evening if you may
summer season fading fast
sun falling and nearly powerless
winds picking up and slightly chilly
sending mind and body shivering
shaking yourself loose of cobwebs
you walk away from the grey
turning on lights
brewing black tea
grabbing a flannel from the closet
you can hear them in the other room
murmuring and scheming and giggling
fidgeting in their chairs
waiting for you to return
serving tray in tow
as you enter they quickly change
their demeanor
slipping into their game faces
knowing full why you called them
but excited nonetheless
to hear it in your own words
september two thousand eighteen
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