A poem
Shadows lie still during day’s blinding reign,
but when sun retreats they uncoil spilling ink,
staining sidewalks, walls,
with twisting forms no longer tethered.
Untamed, unravelled,
they contort dance, unscripted
until fading into small dark pools,
dreaming of when light returns
to trace their delicate outlines.
Now they lie docile,
blending into bright conformity,
but when sun slips behind horizon’s curve
they unfurl inky tendrils,
walls streaked with their twisting forms.
Unshackled, they shed their former selves,
inhabiting new shapes.
untamed, unravelled they contort,
dance unscripted,
slinking cat-like into corners
stretching tall as dark sentries.
Whirling kaleidoscopes of movement,
until fading into small dark pools
dreaming of when light will return
to trace their delicate silhouettes once more,
vassals to illuminate the day’s stark shapes.
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