Ghost Strike! Poem by Bill Grace

Ghost Strike!



Watching the young woman,
in the restaurant where you could leave
your cell phone at your table and expect
to find it when you came back,
Her gesture in speaking to her companion
Was a movement
neither vulgar
nor improper
Only emphatic.
It was not new nor of the heart.
My daughter of fifteen
has moved to this choreography.
The switch
In the darkness
Of my mind
Goes on!
Aha -
Barbie has struck again!

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