Shadow
mine, not mine,
repeating and retreating,
entombed here or enshrined:
I, shadow I,
parody, pantomime,
dull reflection
in a glass past use.
Meaning can't affix itself,
there is no hold to find
within this vaporous world.
We cannot pin its truth
upon sandcastle walls,
blown free in
storms of observation.
Impossible to stand
on feet, not feet,
when ever now this ground's
a prism twist to air.
But still we climb,
a beanstalk into clouds,
hands clenched on
maybe, maybe-nots
we follow, follow.
If "follow" is a shadow's
only game, (until the dark)
let's chase what sun we can.
I'm game
if you are.
Published by Tina Twito
I'm 39, with a wonderful husband (in Iowa), and a daughter who lives in NC with her hubby (love them both!). I write mostly children's stories and poetry (rhyming poetry, traditional poetry, haiku, but mostl... View profile
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8 Comments
Post a Commentvery cool! Great poem! ...Ive desided reality to be inconclusive (o;
J L Carey's mention led me to this poem...I've subscribed to your very interesting mind.
It is the "maybe" of life that keep us going, beautiful poem!
It is the "maybe" of life that keep us going, beautiful poem!
I'm game. Beautiful poem.
Nice.
This is awesome, Tina. I like how the poem causes the reader to follow you just as the shadow does. We are "game" for your words to take us where ever they will lead us.
very good