Poem: I Should Know By Now

I Should Know By Now

It turns wrong, but always
it must seem well first,
there must be a promise
of good to come,
and it must be trusted,
must seem real,
solid as this chair,
the one beneath me
as these words arise,
must be real.  It always
seems so real, but
the moment comes,
the promised moment,
the fulfillment, and then?

Sorry, I lost my place
when I fell to the floor,
and my chair 
seems to have vanished.

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