Friday, November 16, 2012

Sky Ghost




The sky has eyes with which to spy. It stares when I'm out walking the dog and when I'm sitting by a stream. It darts around corners, keeps tabs on where I'm going and if I'm at my job or if I've been let go. Sometimes I wander condemned and chased by a sky which haunts like a ghost, wears thin the skin, and hovers overhead turning flesh to bone.


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