|Image by Alexandr Ivanov from Pixabay|
Poem Written at the Intersection of Baseball, Eyeball and Age
Who knew I would wake up one morning
to someone playing “Asteroids” in my eye,
missing every tumbling rock
and stringy dark alien ship
letting them come around again.
Who knew that wasn’t a swarm of gnats
flying around in my peripheral vision
and the more I swatted the more they flew
while a dark arch of nothingness
hovered over my head.
No wonder people believed in fairies
making mischief at the edge of vision
or swarms of bugs on arms and legs
that could not be swatted
and that no one else could see.
So, I’m glad to live in world where
Posterior Vitreous Detachment
has replaced supernatural attackers
and suspicions of insanity
for the time being, anyway.
©2019 Noreen Braman