She came home  –
the little quicksilver
snuggly cuddly one,
the one who knows how to move,
who takes the spark connection
and rubs it up electric

She came home  – I asked her
where she had been
and she told me  –
it had been a soft escape  –
I had warmed the place enough
for her to return,
all furry and shiny
and bubbly and bright

She managed
to let herself drop like liquid,
coalesce from the tight places
where she had been wrung out,
squeezed beyond all recognition,
used as the engine for something
so unlike her essence

But she escaped
and came back softly,
and now I am intent
on keeping my space
kind enough
so she will stay.

©Wendy Mulhern
October 28, 2021