I’m not going to say anything
that my eyes haven’t already said
There is a reason I write poetry
because a thousand words spoken
in halting, broken, slurred tongues
haven’t been enough to get across
this sense of living at the edge
with hands pressed against the void
sometimes turning back
to make believe the feeling of you
isn’t playing with shadows
but you cast such interesting shadows
bare tree branches in yellow streetlight glow
moving bodies lit by candles close to burning out
the earth cast black against the moon
lanterns in the trees on solstice night
What is it if I walk among them
aching like the sky above
hollow, distant thunder rolling
with nothing to mark my passing
but the scent of rain
and ghosts waiting to watch it fall?
—
—
Photo by Maria Ionova on Unsplash
The Light is On 
9 responses to “Shadows”
Wonderful
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Thank you (:
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Very moving; thank you for sharing your words and your voice
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Thanks very much Dawn (:
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Brilliant and moving poem! How the poem began struck me deeply and it flowed so well. Thank you for sharing this
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Absolutely lovely
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Thank you very much (: cheers!
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Great. I love those final 8 lines…”aching like the sky” brilliant
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Thanks very much (:
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