As mute witness, I sit in quiet anonymity

Observing a never-ending parade of characters

They appear silently, but do not remain,

Pausing only momentarily,

They cast furtive glances, over receding shoulders,

Before passing namelessly into the void.

The doubts they have sown in my sub conscientious

Linger as ripples, long after their passing

Their appearance, a waking dream without resolution

Paints a curious vision cloaked in sadness.

The creation of some unacknowledged inner turmoil?

A memory of disappointment, or fear of a future unfulfilled, foretold

Do they seek me out, with a message in hand?

A suggested course of action or a map to escape this darkness

or is their appearance as random as the message in a bottle

Cast into the sea to wash up unexpectedly upon the shore of my uncertainty.

If there is something I should understand in this scene, I’ve failed

Hoping to find a bit of relief from a lifetime’s accumulated angst.

Instead I’ve added a dozen faceless apparitions,

Each with an armload of questions, and not an answer among them.