The Bubble
I remember that night
when my mind took a walk
on its own.
Not in as a dream,
but like an inquisitive dog
escaping through an open gate.
Like a child living in a bubble,
just rolling around a strange land,
where mind saw itself reflected
through that transparent balloon.
The day after
I tried to piece together what I’d seen.
I know there was a man, a stick figure
with a head as big as a solar flare,
he just waved to me as I passed-by.
A black cat with seven eyes. It said it was
an angel.
An infant about my age, grey haired
and chortling happily.
Today I’m only reporting what I saw,
tomorrow I may burst that bubble
and totally fall out of myself.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2022
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