On Solitude, The Queen

Lynne Roberto

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.

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