More Poetry by Robert R. Woods

June 21, 2o13

  Wrote this poem on the fly, but went back and worked on it a bit. May work on developing the animation a bit more or replace it totally. 

 

Shadow-Gänger
 

A shadow has no life.
It’s just a puppet,
the absence of light.
Yes, once in a while
he may appear to grab at’a 
piece of drywall or brick façade,
seem to walk down an asphalt street,
or through a parking garage. He’ll pretend
to dance upon a door as if alive,
but we know he’s not… he lies.

Wondering homeafter a late night stroll,

he staggers, stumbles,
blunders about, bumping
into everything: tree roots and limbs,
lampposts— a rather nasty run-in
with a protruding-slab of sidewalk.
My silly, witless Shadow-Gänger,
he could never hold his liquor.
—rrw o6-21-13