Like a great queen
this solitude reigns
over me.
Every day
I do her bidding
In silence
Or in prose
Upon a cloud
Or on a bed of thorns.
I unpeople the world
And wrap myself
In a shroud of silence.
My monarch leads me on
Through deserts and storms
Through lands where words grow
Like trees and flowers.
And when a mortal girl
Calls to me
From her treehouse
My queen hurries me away from her.
She is selfish that way.
Or maybe the Queen of Solitude
Feels lonely herself
On some days.
boy with a hat 