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My Fleeting Shadow

Flying above the morning dawn

I'm looking for my shadow

not yet do I perceive

what often eludes me

I am searching for the sky

amongst the clouds up above

I look for dandelions

to blow sweet seeds

across the horizon

is it green or is it cold

is it real or is it Memorex

you can’t compare

must be an echo




The wheels are turning

on a dry ocean

the dregs of sand

fill my casket

I feel like a fish on land

take me home

to Atlantis

and back again

what's real

what's not real

I cannot find it

I'm still looking for my shadow

below the deep

come with me and

fly upon the sea

I’ve been there before




holding grandma’s shriveled hand

finger nails perfect

that’s all I have left of her

holding babies tiny finger

tiny hand holding fast my pinkie

Grip the memory

It may never be there again




the Bradford Stained glass window

in the town of York in Great Britain

my sanctuary

shattered in the war

paupers pulled their

pennies together to

rebuild the cathedral window

is it real

is it replaced

is it refurbished…yes

the sun shines through again

as does my shadow




the sky is green

the grass is blue

my memory fulfills

despite my fleeting shadow

DVWG Guest Poet Leticia Garcia Bradford

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