A SONNET ... bravo!
Perhaps it's my current obsession with Harfork 20 and its ramifications, but my mind is making this poem all about that:
Errant mana streams of laundry strewn,
Rooms abandoned to unnerving hours.
Quickened fables flit or willing fade,
Left with pithy phrases, empty all.
Chaos, sentry rhythm, blameless mass:
Cluster of sweet comfort within noise.
Beautifully written. Masterful craft. Daniel, you are a damned fine poet. Wordsmithing is most certainly your artistic forte.
BTW ... I just noticed the changes to your blog header. Had a good laugh. Gallows humor.
Quill