Distant Replication

Distant Replication



On a stoop see cascading images peer over into oblivion.

Inside dwell a twilight prism, colors screeching in delight.



Cautiously arms and legs reach out into sacred space.

Hoping to find the words echoing of an unsolved mystery



I run from past confusion riddled with delusion.

What did I expect to find in reliving what I assumed was distant replication.



Hurt and wounded from traumas unbidden.

Walking toward a place some call forgiven.