I think I may have found it,
flinging itself haplessly against
the iron bars of my brain.
It's a nebulous thing,
creeping about with vain stealth,
hiding behind the kitchen door,
peering at me from behind the rocker,
its eyes blinking in flickers of fire,
winking slyly in evening candlelight.
It's something I need to capture,
fluttering its wings in frantic panic
as I cup it with care between my hands,
taking it out the front door,
out onto icy front porch steps,
and releasing it into blank night--
hoping to never see it again.
It's an insidious, deadly thing--
Copyright 2010 by Susanne Barrett
Trying to slay the Perfection beast,