Beside the moonlit sidewalk,
lay grass, gravel, and my shadow,
slinging the light and
resting each step in my memory, keeping count.
I reached over to a door handle and let in a sprite.
Only,
it was not me who unhitched the latch.
The culprit was the shadow.
image by Frantisek Drtikol
We are safe, from the void of air reaching us.
What happens if the void crosses the boundary and rings in the ears of
the listening?
Does the Earth tremble and collapse in on itself?
Will there be essences in laughter to the eyesight of stripped oxygen?
Do we evaporate and disappear,
or implode releasing a blip.
..just a thought.
