they disappear
these people around me
vanish as if they never were
strangers and acquaintances
lost to silent scythe
cut down like wheat
well before harvest’s due

yet their light lingers
like ghosts of stars long dead
still seen
bright shadows in the eye
for now

but…

these mannequins of air
do not dance the same
nor cry and laugh
as once they did
before they fell asleep
leaving sanguine images
fading in mind’s mirror