Walk with Me

dead people walk through my dreams

silently spectating

in a form of reverie voyeurism, and

I am left to ponder

whether they also walk in this realm,

unseen in our woken hours,

keeping account, taking stock

shaking their heads, or nodding sagely

as they weigh our balances,

were we gifted but a fleeting glance

a daytime blink, of apparitions

witness to our manner,

what changes could be made?

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© Graham Sherwood 04/2021