Last night, a stranger knocked
not on my door
but in my soul
He wore my face
but his eyes
belonged to the stars
He asked no questions
He simply sat
as if my silence
were an old friend
I offered him fire
he gave me
a mirror made of wind
“Who are you?” I asked
He smiled
“I am the one you become
when you stop trying to be”
The world outside
chased its own noise
but inside
we shared a stillness so wide
it could hold a thousand storms
When dawn came
he vanished
but not entirely
Now when I walk
my shadow listens
About the Creator
Tim Carmichael
I am an Appalachian poet and cookbook author. I write about rural life, family, and the places I grew up around. My poetry and essays have appeared in Beautiful and Brutal Things, My latest book. Check it out on Amazon
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Tatt~Master
— Assembly Line Tatt Machine ~ Impressions to Impress — As I begin to understand more about the Tattoo Phenomenon. I've written silly, yet verbatim, dating site anecdotes in 'Frazzled.' So let me ask you: Would you be More attracted to someone slathered with tattoos, or Less?
By Jay Kantor6 days ago in Humor
Comments (1)
The thought of meeting a version of yourself when you’re not trying to be anything... kind of beautiful.