Chiaroscuro

Me, myself, and I— now we’re mostly friends. But I can remember
a different time when I fought with one, hid from another’s shadow.

I’ve never sleep-walked, and I can’t imagine being my own
doppelgänger… Whose ghostly shadow lives in the shadows?

Once, at a writing retreat in a castle, the fire burned down in the grate.
Was it the cold and damp that woke me at dawn, or was it a sitting shadow?

Villagers told of a lady walking the ramparts at night. Heartsick
or homesick? Before she became a bride, she turned to shadow.

In Kurosawa’s famous film, a thief passes for the warlord who has died.
No one knows who plays flute music in the fields; eventually, all is shadow.

But what purchase this world still has over us— Mornings are green and lilac,
afternoons rouged with jewel hues; nights star-lit, though smudged with shadow.

 

In response to small stone (171).

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Discover more from Via Negativa

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading