NR Digital


by Jennifer Reeser


Collapsing on a sleeping friend
Upon the couch, I fell
Sincerely sorry to offend
This guest in my “hotel.”

Our customary schedules changed,
He lay as if in pitch,
No boundaries, his form estranged
From which idea was which.

He panted thrice, but barely stirred,
His fright dry and compressed –
Neither of us with a word,
We two: the ghost and guest.

My pulse stopped years ago, it’s true.
That person is a ghost
Who stumbles; this, perhaps, he knew –
Unseeing, yet engrossed.

I fled the scene in full control,
Apologies ad hoc.
My terrorizing of a soul
Had come as little shock.

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