Vaporism

It is akin to time travel

when I see bodies rising

out of the ground, shaking off dirt

as they drift skyward, vaporous,

drawn into clouds,

past lives reshimmering,

but it is the future

that I sense, metallic,

electric, a dream and a

foreboding, and it scares me

that there might be

no rest.

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About Ray Sharp

Father, poet, triathlete, local public health planner
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