Transcendental Sonnet #1359:
Still-Life With Cat

When I am depressed I neglect myself
Lying about like a corpse on a shelf
In a morgue somewhere or a dusty tomb
On the couch in blankets in my front room
Wrapped like a mummy cat on my tummy
Encyclopedias litter the floor
As I ignore the Mormons at the door

When the mail comes I might get a letter
I might write something good and feel better
I feel so alone but sometimes the phone
Will ring and bring me happy surprises
Hope never dies it just falls and rises
As I do and yet I think about you
And wonder if love could ever be true

+Steven Curtis Lance



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