DocAndersen
Each time it follows me
I know it is there
I feel it
in the back of my neck
the little hairs rising
it follows me.
I know and I feel it.
In the corners of the room
in the places where the shadows hide
it follows me.
Not the way a dog begs with ball or stick
play, play, play.
In the hallway
people moving
their drinks tipping
speaking to each other
direct transfer of dreams
and in the light
it still follows me.
Even in the shadows it finds me
and I am afraid.
A good feeling it sounds like.
Thanks – it is an interesting feeling at the very least!
Interesting poem
Thanks!!!