Momma what’s a life in shadows?
She asks the moon, because momma’s long gone.
Are they pretty, all faceless and shifting?
Or are they h a z y ?
Does the running woman in the rain believe herself a bird?
Where’s her flock momma?
Is she l o n e l y ?
Lost about the stone’s pure grain and glory?
I’m sorry you’ve got
To share yours with the sun.
Does he know, momma?
Does the sun know
About the shadows?
Maybe if he’d come down
He could keep them c o m p a n y.
I would
If I could.
Momma what’s a life in shadows?