Are You In There Boy
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I watch the sun
shine brightly through my window.
Ballerina specks of dust
Softly dancing in the air.
They lure me once again to fall
Into the memory of my being;
Floating in suspended time,
Unconscious, but aware.
At times I sit within the leaves
Pretending I am one of them.
Piled high to find the comfort
Of the space we share.
I seldom speak aloud
Of how my memory clings,
To find myself inside so many things.
It is the memory of having been
Each thing that I recall;
Until a doorbell suddenly rings
And I am summoned
From my fall.
Copyright © Vernon Witmer | Year Posted 2021
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