Monday, August 29, 2016

"Still Life" by Ethel Spowers

I can feel my eyeballs shift
Almost hear the sound
Of the squooshy spheres moving
From one side to the other
Following the light
Cut through the dark.
So many strange artifacts
Arranged in a curious manner.
So many places to settle
And become very quiet
And wonder about this margin
Between the living
And the dead.

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