Hovering behind me
on the edge of vision,
they show themselves
through innuendo.
No blatant laughter,
but violent whispers
which hint of storms
later from the shadow.
I cannot exorcise them,
because I cannot name them.
They refuse to confess
preferring instead to sift
through old possibilities
like snow through dead branches.
(August 20, 2026)
subtext 