Restless

 

“Shadows in the Trees” by Wendy Wade

 

a pasture serene

light with rain

rich and redolent

soil sustained by

sweet springs

born of snowmelt

and memories

wondering where

are the sheep

generations of goats

where the cow herds

who thrived in this

forest-bound space

in this nature-made

mountainside

theater of seasons

now green and gold

grasses grow tall

swaying fitfully

tousled by drafts of

fleet shadows abroad

flitting aimlessly

caught between

here and hereafter

aware change has come

something busy

and bountiful

brought to its end

without knowing the why

or what shapeshifting wind

will prefigure tomorrow

Sundown

 

Image from pinterest.com

 

 

stop the shadows
please stop them
already too lengthened
stretching my stick figure
legs tall as ambulant trees

head drawn darkly
in sharp angled
chimney-stack silhouette
hideous with an
elongated scream

reaching closer toward
end of day
wanting to touch
that dead moment
of sundown oblivion

 

 

(originally posted November 2013)

Wings

“Winged Figures” by Sarah Merrill

 

 

pain is a raptor

clawing sands from cold beaches

tearing skin from their surf

with no motive or mercy

a random attacker

whose wings shadow continents

plummeting omens

dodging the freefalling sunrays

that otherwise burn

feathered flesh wounds

disabling the skill to devour

but no sun can save me

for I have already

been eaten

 

Chiaroscuro

“The Matchmaker” by Gerrit Van Honthorst

 

 

 

enlightened darkness

teaches drama to shadows

heightening tension

 

Shadowproof

Oleander Casting a Shadow
Photo from learnnc.com

when did I die
was I ever alive
was it all
wisp of figment
if so who
imagined me
if I can think
through the pain
and the plague
of uncertainty
surely then
somewhere existed
some semblance
of me in my
essence or did it

if shadows
are proof then
I may have
the answer
but I can’t tell
shadows from
inside the dark
of this
dungeon of doubt

can you see it
my shadow
attached to
this ground
if you can
would you touch
it and tell me
at least if it’s
dead or alive
so that I may
take rest from
these fears
cast aside
existential anxiety
lie back down
into the night
knowing whether
to wait for
the sun or
confront my
infinity

Our Day

“Fiery Passion”
Photo by Nova Heroi
From deviantart.com

light comes undone
in these shadowlands
giving fire its reign
passion burning its
painful identity inside
our veins skin aglow
from the red flames
of love that we lit
in our sunrising hours
keeping its heat
through the turn of
our sky unto dusk
you and I need not
fear for the growth
of these shadows
the smoky soft gifts
of our memories
lasting a little while
longer until they
converge with the
dissolute darkness
of night where our
fire can slumber
unnoticed in comfort
till startled awake by
new lovers who
take up our ardor
igniting their own
blaze and blush of
new glorious dawn