It Hangs Out Poem by delilah contrapunctal.... yes, that's how I intended to spell it.........

breathing....hard
looking for
its
something(s) often neglected...
scurried into a cupboard, hidden behind the wedged wood...tail caught on a cup-hook...
showing tiny noses only when the coasters are cleared....
uh-huh... has become a little shriveled.....the mirror of reasonable doubt attests to that...
flopping aimlessly
between awe and credence
it bleeds....then, congealed by tenacity,
wails, wallows, hits the note....(pitch is OK) .....discerning powers not as clouded as could-have-been......
as
to
balance..
....fragile would best describe it.......
hoping the hands that hold the tightrope.... are.....are....
rough rehearsal...
oh, it isn't a rehearsal?