Woman
It’s a
warning: a blink
from the
lighthouse.
The man in
the street,
he won’t
turn his head,
let you
walk on by;
you’re on
his list.
It’s a game
of control
and, woman,
you stood up.
Everything
you do
just makes
him angry.
The real is
getting lost,
falling out,
like driftwood
on waves of
data strewn.
We all sink
a little deeper
because the
lighthouse
needs to
open its eyes.
Copyright
Vickie Johnstone, March 25, 2021
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