Decoding the Spirits
Help me if you can.
The spirits must be confused, they’re speaking over each other. This one says, Save nostalgia for after the third glass of wine. That one says, Put your copper in a vault but place your soul in a pocket so you can spend it freely. Another chimes in, Visit the memories of your parents until you know their story better than your own. So here I sit, a poet-messenger with paper and ink, yet without any idea what all this means. Help me if you can. Read this poem twice and allow these spirits to have their say.
Published in
- The Invitation · October 13‹ OblivionEveryone ›