Poetry

There’s a ghost, Jonathan, sitting in the middle of my living room – his space

Working hard at his computer doing lots of things.

There’s a ghost, Brandon, sitting at my table at his computer, designing his day

And journey.

There’s another ghost, me, sitting at my computer, all day, reading, writing, looking

For other ghosts in the Ghost-a-Rama, in the All That Is-a-Rama

While Rama looks on, smiling. Exactly as It intended.

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