I wrote this poem some years ago while sitting in my medical office, in a dark moment, thinking of what I was dealing with in the battle of life and death. Published in Coffee Press Journal, May 2006. Copyright to J. Donald Coonrod.
In a blinking bright
flickering world,
where dust hangs
in the light,
depressing my sense
of order, voices cut
like a wire, tight,
whining, high-pitched
they come into consciousness,
glazing red, sinking
lethally into bone.
Outside the tide of all
my fears runs deep, a
watery prison of what is
and what will be.
The second book in the telepathy series. It contains more ways for the up and coming telepathist to experiment with the sending and receiving of thoughts and is at the end of the story about future telepathy people found unexpectedly chosen by the go
The second book in the telepathy series. It contains more ways for the up and coming telepathist to experiment with the sending and receiving of thoughts and is at the end of the story about future telepathy people found unexpectedly chosen by the go
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