Beyond Sight
Distant dogs bark
Rain clouds
in the internal weather
of the yet unknown
~
Did we, like satellite moons,
on the outer orbital rims
of a blind universe
just collide?
~
She brushes my long hair,
the hair is a ghost
long fallen.
A barbershop chorus
modulates its harmonics.
~
A deaf television blares
out of his coffin.
He has changed channels;
gone are ears of the watchers.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2021
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