Shadows come and then,
as the day goes on the shadows shorten and they're gone.
At midday when the shadows play alone,when the sun is high it is then I wonder where and why the shadows left me high and dry but later as the light burns low,
I know the shadows lengthen as the life in me begins to shorten and then,
at the turning of the night in men when each and everything comes 'back to black'
I stack each blessing one by one upon lost shadows, and like me those faded photographs are gone,
each memory of a snapshot day relived in shadows,come what may or what may come, each shadow has its moment in the sun and each sun will pass across the sky and I will wonder where and why
as my life shortens.