Tuesday, March 16, 2021

Poem by Sheila Murphy

Sounding Like Someone Else 

Read a passage to discern 
what is licensed to exist. 
Mimic then wait before 
breathing out again. 

Hide all mirrors lest the pattern 
be repealed. The noise of repetition 
dampens joy that quiet maybe 
brings or just allows. 

In a minute you'll be old, 
and what is that when you reflect 
you've been behaving 
too well to be remembered 

 or even recognized as yourself, 
a person whose pockets are filled 
with permission slips 
all about to expire.
Sheila E. Murphy

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