Orange Orb, Silver Sphere

Aside from my writing about UFOs and the paranormal, supernatural realms in general, I also write fiction, poetry, prose. (If so inclined, you can visit my fragments, found blog.) I rarely write about the fringe, anomalous stuff in my fiction life, but, occasionally I do come up with something. Here's a prose-poem I wrote recently about UFOs:

an orange orb, silver sphere

follows, hovers

beam of light

dreams follow:

paralyzed, silent screams

beams of light, again, so bright-white, vision transcends the norm.

awareness of cognizance, familiarity from the Other and yet, 

memory plays tricks, 

missing time, a lost drive begun

on a late summer afternoon.

waiting for a friend, a heavy sudden wind in the woods, a no show.

finding ourselves back home, hours later . . .

watching the orb stop, hover, drop in a neighbor's yard.

Do I follow? Call an authority? Instead, I dream 

of orbs and spheres, lights 

and enormous spinning shields above my head.

something intelligent, aware, knowing, follows, 

tracks my journeys on the astral.

so what? where? who, how, why?

questions, decades later, answers

evade.