On Sitting Down In A Quiet Place - redux

I waited
to mould wisp of
intricate thread
of a jumper to house
my lost head

the wearwithall of
clothes and a position
almost right

my seat formularises
around the happy and non plussed
the sweat of some Malthusian shift

what memory goes to clean
exhale?

And as I sit in a quiet space
even repitition's return
is welcome like an old chum
walking my way.

silence, no matter how strange,
state no matter how gaped,
colour, no matter how matte or diffuse
is a friend.

And they smile, even if pain's familiarity
asks to wrestle like
a spoilt child

and night's gown is home
and day's globe is home
the swell and the strict
are home

pensees to the main
shipwreck to their cabal
scowl to the small bean collectors

our shared fascination has made entire
vivaria in a handful of pages

and we too rest
here, sit, friend

I am sure your work has dragged
your cat fantasy some way.