Life of Shades

Dawn comes upon me lingering at the edge of a new day. Watching it pull shadows from their beds, stumbling out on wobbly legs, tall as trees walking; slates seen between peach coloured hues spreading across my view like a sea from a budding flame. I watch these shades sway like swimmers through ever brightening waves; starting their day-to-day, and I wonder, did they want to be pulled from their beds or were they slaves like us to some alarm unheard at the cresting of that flame, pulled to and fro by tides in their brightening sea like we are moved in fate’s wake. Or would they have been free to choose; would the dawn first peak at the day, come upon a sea of peach hues instead? And just you and I left to our own tides pulling us This way and that sans shadowy shapes keeping pace. And as that flame begins its pace, becoming pressed and pulled in all shapes. Against their will being made And unmade; old, then young, then old again. Wandering aimlessly through another’s day-to-day. As time brings them to bed again, do they peacefully dream, or are they tied to us even then? Following our hopes and fantasies, being chased by our fears down Past streets. When I awake; groggy from my night of ethereal plays, is it only my shades restless night found written upon my haggard face. When night’s events are lost at the break of day, is it only then that shadowy “I” finally finds its own resting place?