I wake from the night into memory.
Nearby, I am here again, a soft footstep
in the hall, muffled behind a closed door.
A silence forms like an intake of breath.
Dawn waits darkly along the horizon.
It is hard to differentiate the difference
between what I see and what I knew.
One changes the other like the rising sun.
It is as if I have lived here before,
perhaps, in a novel I once half-read,
or when lulled by repetitive motion
of an ocean wave adrift far at sea.
I’m present in overlapping visions
within each one, I’m lost and discontent.
(April 14, 2025)
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