Poem: There Is A Shadow

There Is A Shadow

swaying on the wall,
but what is it
the shadow of?  It
trembles, not
quite still, but
nothing seems
to move.  The shape
of it is too unfamiliar,
must be a distortion
of the caster.  It is
only a shadow
against the wall
in a dark room,
but it is enough
of a mystery
that I will not sleep,
will open my eyes
to weigh the shadow
before I can.

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