At a shadowed wall.
Curious shadows.
They squirm and dance,
Only to be hushed
By the ever present
Light, controlling the
Shadows, as I on
A chain. Whipping them
Back at any sight
Of movement or fright.
As the light moves,
Dominating the wall,
The shadows retreat,
Barely resisting.
The shadows are shoved
Into a small corner,
To be thought of little.
I, too, turn away
In utter disgust
Of such apparent weakness.
« return.