there is beauty in a shadow
not the shadowS, mind you,
but a singular shadow
how the air around it seems to
vibrate
with light
and contrast
blank in the middle, yet
so alive, so crisp at the edges
highlighting every pebble
slightly bigger than
the rest that rests
just outside its perimeter
how it bends to slide past fence posts
and trees
now folds in half to
climb the house
slides back down
concealing
revealing
every peeling bit of paint
so fluid
now pause to
take it in
"Turn around. You're missing it," she says
but there is beauty in a shadow
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Crys...
"Continues its struggle
To remember innocence lost"
And I think too, that it’s easier to,see the light for the shadows. Mom always said photos were best taken that way.
And doesn’t a good rain storm make for the prettiest crisp, dark edgings? Scents as well.
And, and, and...
your use of that word “singular” is genius.
—Charlie
then disappear in the night,
I'd say your poem,
Is simply a beautiful write.
Ron