For days, he is without inspiration

He does not want to practice

Practice on any little thing

For days he does not feel he has a purpose

He is useless useless useless

Scrubbing floors that are already bright with cleanness

For days he halts this observation

Of Her

Because it hurts to think of Her

And lately he has not seen her

Has not seen her flit restlessly about the castle

Like a pale butterfly

Has not heard the tinkling bells of

Her laughter

Cook says

She's sick

Morning sickness

Means Her baby is healthy

She makes sure one of the servant girls

Leaves Her the pastries she craves

He wonders if the pastries

Are what's making Her sick

And not what others say it is