Elephant in the House

There's an elephant in the house now, in the kitchen on the sink.

If you dare not deign believe me, hear it trumpet, see it wink.

Now she's dancing in the den with my golf clubs in her hands,

Singing songs of Asian rajahs and the desert's endless sands.

What does one do in these moments, seeking quiet solitude?

How does noise factor in to my poetic writing mood?

There, a door slammed, now the cat screamed, what is that vicissitude?

Maybe when the earth stops spinning, when it's quiet as a mouse,

Oops, I scared that silly elephant. Now she's gone. Good, quiet house.

Herb Ratliff, January 11, 2011, All Rights Reserved