/pen/umbra (20171113)

no silhouette cut by diamonds
no sharp crisp edge of a shadow

you need a cloudless sky
and a summer sun for that

the fog bound star in the sky
gives me a fuzzy edge

vampires don’t cast
reflections in mirrors or shadows
because they lost their souls.

what of my caterpillar-soft double
writhing on the ground
attached at the feet
attached until i float
attached then not at all

what sound does a shadow make
the creaking of bones?
the grinding of teeth?
the paper on paper whisper
of a moth’s wings?

a brief flash (20170910)

something black flashes
in the grass
exactly the way
light doesn’t expand

overhead the sun blazes
behind a white cloud
and casts a long black shadow
across the sky
an oil slick on blue

moving toward me
the bones in my feet
phalange proximal metatarsal
vibrate with its approach
something insensate and unilluminated
flashes underground
knowing me without knowing

me and my shadow (20160612)

i walk on my hands now

i used to walk on my feet
like everyone else
but i got tired of
my shadow always
dogging my heels

i jumped a lot
but that was exhausting
and i always had to come


now i walk on my hands

the first time
i did it
i was able to lock hands
with my shadow
and wrestle him off the ground

empty where his eyes were
smooth where his ears should be
vacant where his mouth might have opened

yet it laughed
this human-sized oil spill
knowing that my only choices were
to pull it to myself
so that would never be parted
or go back to letting it follow me

i walk on my hands now
on my shadow, hand-in-hand
a compromise

eclipse (Poem 20160506)

the screen tries to hold my focus
but shadows
flicker past catch my eye

ghosts, shades, living fades,
the memory of a wind chime
on a still day

with the right suns
you can mix light and shadow into
crisp edges and soft blue blisters

but these shadows sport human shape
i watch them lengthen and merge
and wait for their whispers


The Daily Post
The Daily Prompt: Shadow