Ghost Trees

hard to see
fine lines of this master piece
we call life

near invisible
below palm horizon
sky alignment

pillow

listening to you breathe
listening to reasons feel their way through cracked wheat
searching for their likenesses
among assimilated car doors wandering
between donated spaces and what once was yours

the could’ve of a floor board slam
open screen door should’ve of a deer hide
unstolen continues to glide
kite string over mountain shade
think
if this
for one second slips
this visit over
mess in a kitchen wrongful and directions
scatter
birds all at once
nothing left to account for, it
becomes
what others see here

sunset rise where sunrises set
polar opposites shift
to exchange hypnotic states with
more familiar states of consciousness,
status quo back-snaps upon the table of these
non-showable non-sellable arenas of experience, there
are no audiences for a jut of celluloid
protruding from the object it once
pertained to paper rooted
matrices containing
evidence

of days hidden from no-one, anyway
forget it
keep on looking
across the street before a car comes

walk slow
to address the stress surrounding neighborhoods
the pest control surveillance cameras of wireless
gun shots

what isn’t heard

clouds dazed in the smoke-highways of ear holes,
someone made a good idea to build pollution
replication of lungs
where lungs are non-replicated lies
felt in the tremors of light flickers
is anyone there

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