Still Life in Shadows

Written by: Jennifer Cahill

 
Figures like shadowed burnt molded clay mimic life		   
As they are cast in the sliver of light that passes		   
Through a crack in the rotted wood of the house slowly		   
Collapsing as days stretch endless under grey or blue of		   
Skies with the sun burning in their hearts beating		   
Like the wings of the robin that kisses		   
The first dew of spring		   
		   
They remember their dreams transparent and watery		   
Like the surface of the lake rippling and catching the sheen		   
Of the moon on a Shakespearean summer night,		   
The crickets lulling with their song, the warm breeze		   
Sifting through the darkness that is broken like shards		   
By the street lights that shine for the lonely nightwalker		   
Or the lit window casting the glow from our home