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~~a villanelle~~

Tilting windmills on a sunny day
with rusty swords till something breaks
seems to me a waste of play.

The cranky knight must have his way
to soothe, I suppose, his chronic aches,
tilting windmills on a sunny day.

I’m trying hard to look away,
ignore the hissy fits and fakes.
Seems to me a waste of play

to criticize. I will not sway
them anyway, for heaven’s sake!
Tilting windmills on a sunny day

reduces me, turns skies to gray.
Contempt is such a bitter cake,
seems to me a waste of play,

though who am I to judge you? Hey,
your years of practice, perfect makes!
Tilting windmills on a sunny day
seems to me a waste of play.

Thank you, Miguel de Cervantes, for the analogy that never grows old.

© Elaine Stirling, 2017

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