Slippery Guest Poem by Sonny Rainshine

I see you have surfaced again,
like cicadas do when
the days get short,
or are they long?
When the moon’s orbit
truncates,
or was it quickening revolutions
of the sun that signaled
your advent?

Have a slice
of rhubarb pie here,
with strawberries on top
and graham cracker crust.
Have a cup of orange spice tea.
While you’re at it,
pour me some
apologies.

There’s no ghost
like an old ghost,
a spector loosed from
the jewel box of the past,
all a-twinkle with costume pendants
and rhinestones unglued.

Have your tea and go.
These are years
that my soul craves constance.

These are days
when fair-weather friends
and birds in perpetual flight
rattle me and make me say:
Stay.