A 1949 Summer Hallucination
In the center of the Atlas Mountains
A boy of 9-and-half years
Squirms in an army cot
In the middle of a windowless room.
No door leads in or out.
The lad resembles me. He’s frightened
Because the walls and ceiling
And the floor beneath him heaves.
They expand and contract
Closing in on him as enormous jaws
They compress the hot summer air
That becomes sanguine red
And when the walls spread out
Into indistinct infinity or myopic proximity
The air thins into rainbow colors
And becomes solid and black.
When the youth matures into an old man
He always remembers this occurrence
Every time the rays of the sun
Beat perpendicularly on his balding spot.
Alex Nodopaka July©2009
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