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Here you will find the writings of the poet Theodore Waterfield

What’s Up There

What’s up there, that sound,
the attic talking?
Footsteps stomping in the wind?
Voices arguing with each other?
Dreams dreaming their separate lives?
Are they things not yet alive?
Just waking up.
Should I be afraid?
Is it, whatever it is,
afraid of me?
Imagination gone awry?

Is it something else in reverse,
asking, what’s happening down there?
Making all that noise.
Opening and closing,
rattling and breaking.
Unceasing racket.
The mysterious, or me, asking
what’s behind a door?
Should doors be opened?
All doors or some?
What is knowledge worth?
Someday to meet a ghost or angel,
or the philosopher’s stone
tossed from the dark?
In a game called catch me if you can.

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