Sometimes I scrutinize this bedsit:
shoes and runners pointing in different directions on floor;
red jacket strewn across arm of sofa;
an unmade bed, the sheets tossed about and ruffled from torturous sleep;
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o survey the innocence of movement, of purpose, of threads that unravel into one big knot. there is a ghost here...... so many who are engaged in eostherics say about an out.of body experience. some believe it, some do not......... so is it..... thank you for this good poem which gives notions which are different than normal. tony
Tony, thanks for such an insightful critique.