Sixth Sense
A hollow whisper in my ear,
a voice that I alone can hear,
the soldier seen in camouflage,
a ghostly desert storm mirage.
I feel the cat jump on the bed,
but cannot look, too filled with dread,
people glimpsed and then not there,
vanished, gone into thin air.
The doctor's hands are stiffly steepled,
when you say you've seen dead people.
Are all these visions in my mind?
psychic/psychotic: such a fine line.
©Danielle White
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