Shadow Muse by Odin Roark What’s a scrappy old ghost to do Whose graveyard fantasy Has long passed? I wander streets and alleys now Still a companion to my muse Who refuses to vanquish her shadow light Nudging my silhouette endlessly “There’s more” her seductive urge We walk She talks We remain arms length Her light betraying my non-existence Cats screech at my presence Mongrels sniff this visage Forlorn and quizzical They’re used to reality Not shadows without object My silhouette take repose each morning Astride the lions of stone Ever faithful sentinels Guarding the library’s entrance 42nd St and 5th Ave play host to many ghosts But no other whose shadow Belies ghostliness That freaks them out Muse and me are in the library a lot The stacks my real home/grave Yeah Between covers I’m supposedly alive Words Phrases Pages past Innocent students visit Unaware we’re watching Helping lift the burden of the words Off the page Into the eyes of curiosity Maybe into the soul of the future Midday We always find a park bench How I appreciate her honeydew presence Perfuming my surroundings The memories naked with Torch song sonnets Melodies my own Invaders long ago exiled My specter feeds the pigeons No concern where the food comes from They bob at the bench Hop up on the shaded slats Coo a tune about no real food Fly off Another reminder of imagination’s maybe Wonderful what your mind can do When it projects out of this world Into another today Yesterday Hopefully one more tomorrow
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