A GROWING SHADOW

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An evening shadow entered throught the front room window alittle while ago


Not much of a shadow, pale


But it was there growing slowly


Noticeable to any half seeing eye.


 


It took the yellow daffodil pattern on our green carpet


Crawled along the brown, fake leather couch


And hung around the corner of the mushroom, marble fireplace


That my mother is so famously proud of.


 


I am sat on a bentwood thonet chair, just to the right of the door


The long evening shadow now at my feet


In a few minutes it will rise up and shroud me


And I wonder, what shall become of me then?


 


 

Created: Mar 11, 2014

Tags: poetry

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