December journey—

I stumble through the shadows

on an empty street.

On an August day

I seek respite from the sun—

shadows of the oak.

In the damp shadows

of a broken flowerpot

a toad makes its home.

Lengthening shadows—

an artist plants her easel

on the garden path.

Shadows

first week of July—

shadows from the almond tree

settle in my lap

Winter afternoon—

even the courtyard gate lock

fills up with shadows.

Bench

Winter afternoon—

shadows leak from every crack

of a weathered bench.

Even in shadows

enough light leaks from the lamp

to show me the way.

winter afternoon—

dark shadows on the river

startling the fishes