Photo by Mathew Schwartz on Unsplash
My shadow spreads out before me,
A gift of the moon,
Solidified nothingness at my feet.
Walking down streets worn as old tennis shoes,
I pick up my shadows as they run to me
From a million distant lunacies.
I count them
Like the dead I have known.
And the darkest one is you.
About the Creator
Catsidhe
Pronounced Cat-she: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cat-s%C3%ACth
Anonymous by necessity,
Vocal by choice.
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