My friend, the shadow,
messes with the day’s clarity.
His darkness lies like a wound
or a questioning of daylight.
He tried wine and marijuana,
growing his own grapes and buds.
The doctor wrote a script
that he follows as he dances nude
in moonlight to the music
of the invisible tree frogs.
His life cannot race too fast
since he had that attack of heart
the same number of years ago
as the memory of falling towers.
He glides like a Tai Chi master
through the slow wind
his bare arms make
from the flowing of leaves
My priestly duty requires I abstain
from his nude dancing. Besides,
it is too cold in the night
to bare myself to the darkness.
He writhes a pale shadow of moon
which is itself a pale shadow
of every hidden phase of sun.
My friend, the wandering shadow,
eyes me with smiling sight,
kisses the frostful air,
and moves between star and moonlight.
He has left me talking to myself
but blessed with the thinning of blood.
Copyright. David Anthony Sam.
David Anthony Sam lives in Virginia with his wife and life partner, Linda. His poetry has appeared in over 100 journals and his poem, “First and Last,” won the 2018 Rebecca Lard Award. His collection, Writing the Significant Soil, was awarded the 2021 Poetry Prize at Homebound Publications whose imprint, Wayfarer Books, will publish Summer 2022. Six other collections are in print including Final Inventory (Prolific Press 2018) and Dark Fathers (Kelsay Books 2019). He teaches creative writing at Germanna Community College and serves as the Regional VP on the Board of the Virginia Poetry Society. www.davidanthonysam.com