The Practice
I'm not thinking of her today.
Not mind-walking
somewhere at the edge England
or at the side of a field now bulldozed by time.
When not thinking of her I do converse with her
with this constant breathing I practice.
Many desire the unattainable,
but untimely death steals even that away.
My ghost holds its breath beneath the earth
far longer than it should.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2023
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