It’s wrong to mix brown with an object’s color to paint the shadow it casts. Better to darken the surface color.
The mistake of memory is to believe that a shadow is silver when it tastes of canteen metal no matter how much water washes through it.
Better to allow guilt the weight of tulip petals.
Shapes appear behind you. And fire behind the shapes. On a wall in front of you, someone shoots students and teachers. As you watch it happen, you think surely a bullet’s shadow is as deadly as a bullet.
Rain rinses away the family drawn in chalk. Neighbors step around traces.
This evening, blackbirds on my front lawn feed on seeds before a late frost. Hunger follows and mimics.
Nowhere else to go but with the object between you and the light.
Open Window Review... 