07 Aug
20 fuchsia eyes stare from a hibiscus tree;
I look back; I notice a snow-white that strikes me
as out of place. The omnipresent uproar of Brood X resonates.
My eyes scour the tree's trunks,
trying to spot their alien goggle-eyes but find none. They are there--
undetectable visually yet occupying vibrationally.
Like so much recognized without eyes.

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Posted by on August 7, 2021 in Poetry


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