They Catch; They Retrieve Me Poem by L. K. Thayer

Out of sight, out of mind they come
Out to play.
Out of lack, out of cupboards bare
Out from undercover, out of shame
They come out to play.
They catch; they retrieve me.

Out from loneliness and regret,
Out of obsession and need, they
Hover like bees over honey
They feed; all is forgiven
They breathe
They catch; they retrieve me.

The earth is beating her wings
She takes flight upon fancy
To hold everything that is dear
All the poets and players
Taking them to her heart, taking
Them To her breast
She feeds them as they
Come out to play
They catch; they retrieve me.

From wombs and absent fathers
From broken spirits and dashed hopes
From final curtain calls and ghosts
From the west sea to the east sea
From each different coast
They come out to play
They catch; they retrieve me.

From downtown to upstairs
From eight o’clock to half past five
From dawn to almighty dusk
They risk all to deliver their sacred brew
Of sweet pine and nectar
Squeezed from their guts
They come out to play
They catch; they retrieve me.