Familiar days
Published in
May 8, 2020
My relief settles felicitously
on the back of the closed door,
sybaritic sales vamoose,
performances perish.
In our self-contained home
is an elysian sanctuary furnished
with a graph of feelings
half-mooning familiar days.
Our tableful of thoughts feast
rest, work and play upon us each
unfolding and folding stratous sheets
under the consequences of happiness.
I sit with it all
in every little thing
in no other thing
a homecoming to self.
© Caterina Mastroianni. All rights reserved
