Alien Greeting
as I contemplate the creature from afar, beads of sweat from my forehead hissing as they strike the parched august soil below, the object of my gaze lazily lifts a hand upward, tilting it slightly in the air before resting it gracefully on the ledge before him, when, eyeing me, the alien fairly flows in my direction, his hand no longer opaque but shockingly transparent, mesmerizing me as it passes through the plane of my own hand unscathed.
sere hand … fingers mine ...
earth bakes ... skeletal wind whips ...
eerie … nothing there
June 11, 2018
Copyright © Gershon Wolf | Year Posted 2018
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