DRIFT

A cloud drifts by casting shadows on the ground.
The shadows are in front of me;
their shape fluid and curved.
I step lightly behind them,
not wishing to leave the warmth of the sun.
Perhaps, I think, I should follow and see where they might go.
Perhaps, I think, they may show me a secret, something untold.

The movement varies in speed.
Fast then slow.
Fast then slow.
I keep the tempo never faltering and never losing site even though
the path becomes uneven and the world around unfamiliar
in all it’s characteristics and flow.

Uncertainty fogs my mind
and I begin to question my actions.
Perhaps, I think, I should go no further.
Perhaps, I think, this is not a destiny that I should force onward.

But like a riddle to the thinker,
my curiosity demands me to know –
Where do these shadows go?

The sun dips down and expands their seams.
Quicker is my step to stay on the edge,
and stranger is the world as light bends and sets.

When I take my focus away from my task,
the things I see around me are alarming.
My heart is pounding,
creating caverns in my chest.
For what is beyond is distressing and gives way to unrest.
Perhaps, I think, I have gone too far.
Perhaps, I think, returning is an optimistic farce.

With a sudden but silent shift through the air,
the shadows stretch
and then vanish.

Where does the night end?
And how did it so easily begin?

I have lost them,
and now stand in a flood of darkness,
unsure of my direction
and left with so many
unanswered questions.

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