shot glass
Issue # 4 May 2011
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Ed Shacklee

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As light recedes, and shadows grow,
the field the dying orb concedes
turns ruddy orange, then indigo,
as light recedes.

As dreams are prophets of our needs
but tell us only what we know,
so stars cannot compel our deeds;
they only show us what they show.

When night releases all below,
our ghosts will rise up from the weeds,
and darkness casts a cameo
as light recedes.