Shadows run ahead of us
see how they hop and skip to
balance on the edge of time,
I fear that they will trip.
Then the day grows dull and
shadows pull their coats a little tighter,
the fighter in me wants to stay
but the shadows fade then fade away.
The evening of my dawn grows colder
curtains drawn to keep the chill at bay and
I feel as if an older man looks on the shadows
© 2015, John Smallshaw.