Dancing With My Shades by R. Gerry Fabian

Published by

j re crivello

on

For a long time,

I mistook my ghosts

for elongated shadows

who only showed in sunshine

but I have learned to interpret

cadences and rhythms.

–

Now, I hold fast to my specters

They are like Native American spirits –

in the air, in fire, in passion, in pain-

like rough moccasined feet in the forest.

–

My phantoms breath the essence of then.

They are the wrong paths I took

that brought me here

and their heart pulsing flashes

syncopate my every movement.