by Charles Entrekin
As if you’ve been thrown
like a stone,
skipping across moments
by touching
the surface tension,
the rings circling outwards
from where you have been,
leaving you behind
in the here and now.
Sinking,
as if you are being pulled under,
beneath the surface of a lake.
But you are not drowning.
Only a seamlessly closing down
and the world is still outside
in the growing distance.
And while there is no pain,
there remains the ordinary day
all around you,
and so you ask your wife,
what happened to the light?
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