Tagged: shadows

in the shadows, we

perhaps not these

perhaps not these
words, but the shadows
of these words are
for you. being with
or without
shadow is how i am
measuring every
word for the
remainder of
winter, allowing
you to collect them
like empty bottles
on the beach
.
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within these ripples

summer’s golden hour,

when dusting off old

when dusting off old
memories, notice the shapes
left behind, outlines

clinging to every edge,
shadows swallowing up time
.
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moonlight spilling through

moonlight spilling through
the bedroom window, three layers
of longing – wrought iron

bars, gauze curtains, vast ceiling –
suddenly an alignment
.
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in November’s

in November’s
backyard, casting
afternoon shadows
against the wall,
an impression
of impermanence –
a sparrow,
a tree, a memory –
altogether brief
.
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