Shadows on Rooftops

yellow, orange, red, ribbons stretched across…the brilliant sun the sound of a rooster..,a fiddler on a roof, above Anatevka where roads are muddy and tradition is a foundation…milky town comes alive…chop, chop, choppy…and doughy…fish feathers…generations…heavy bundles and matchmaking questions, seriously funny with portentous blessing…worship peace and harmony interrupted by troublemaker, dancing dragging his boots down muddy or dusty…near chimney the bow strides across strings, pointedly…dramatically the sky still in lullaby state, far above all…it sadly waits God only knows what will happen next… In shadows, we all, knowingly or in denial cross the boundaries from the past to tomorrow in our present, we levitate, our worries like birds tomorrow will soon be our yesterdays, faraway looks no one can traverse nor enter, perhaps lean into but never mine…embrace not…feel sorry for not their fault…the split of friendship…waving bye bye, forgetting the punch line God only knows what happens next eventually existence ends and if we desire we may know the why and wherefore but likely we, gadabouts, will be checking out the horizon that is His hem filling heaven’s temple