Slap Gently
Slap Gently
by John O’Brien, Jr.
Its late at nite and I hear your name.
as a beam from the distant porch lite
on a nite of no lite
piercing, silent
a whole orchestra of meaning in
one
little
tiny
distant
lite
tendrils of my response.
Trick from sense to sense.
Night vision goggles
find no heat, no beating heart
to guide them to their target.
Gunfire echoes
shots across the bow
only to grab my attention
awake from a living dream
slap in the face
a warning of time slipping away
like the last vestiges of your voice.