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Jonathan Moya
Poems
May 2022
Shadow Geometry
at what point do shadows become
numbers and numbers become dust
is it when sunlight and moonlight cross
the eye into our anatomical darkness
when the zero circle helixes into short
existence a rose, a cell, a dying memory
when raindrops no longer liquefaction,
leaving umbrellas a meaningless prop
or the grid that passes over unnoticed
during the slow, long ride to the hospital
maybe, the strobe of light that moves
from office cubicle to office cubicle
possibly the shadows that dance while
you clean precisely calibrated glasses
try to focus on those rain smeared
figures now in your field of view
remembering they once were you on
the half lit steps staring into the dark
watching the three triangle flapping
of the crow over the tarmac
Written by
Jonathan Moya
63/M/Chattanooga, TN
(63/M/Chattanooga, TN)
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