Poetry Lover
Eventually it stalks
the chantry of your mind
with heavy step and a proud face,
sits at your communion table,
fork and knife poised in its hands,
criticizes the elements and their presentation,
becomes the Adversary.
Eventually it demands
both sides of the bed,
total control of the television remote,
dictates what music
you can play on the stereo,
takes over the closet.
Far cry from the day
it knocked timidly
on your half-open door,
knelt at your feet,
waiting to speak. Or fled,
and you eagerly pursued it
down the merciless streets.
—Carol Clark Williams
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previously published in Byline Feb.2007