Red Eye (Conventional Self)
The counter change ahead
from many air - miles made,
there is no tomorrow
only the light and shade ;
descending from above
the landing lights look strange,
my astral empathy
is ever out of range
and if I really am
invisible as air,
the stamp is ignorant
the passport doesn’t care ;
to satisfy custom
with that which isn’t there
I’m always in the green
with nothing to declare :
I mirror back my face -
cold water to ennui
and wonder why I have
this false identity.
Copyright © Roy Austin | Year Posted 2008
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