image by glenn buttkus
I have seen George Foreman shadow-boxing, and the
shadow won.”--Muhammad Ali.
The day dawns around 5:30 am here in summer. By 7:30 am, when
the sun breaks over the eastern foothills, my back yard is ready for
me. It is jammed with ten kinds of shade, deep & dark, with good
clear edges--marvelous squads of shadows stretching across the
deck from the railings, posts, & furniture, across the dewy yard in
sinuous knots & patterns, shimmering under the huge hundred year
old maple tree in the neighbor’s yard, & my weeping willow & tulip
tree. The various shadows duel & mix it up, providing me with a
new show daily as I stroll gleefully about recording the drama with
my minimalist’s eye, & the growling click of the lens on my camera.
Shadows call me out
to play, as the sun createslabyrinths without light.
Post over at dVerse Poets Pub "Haibun"