forest bridge
A dark shape clings upon the window glass,
A silent watcher where the sun shines bright,
It moves when all the passing moments pass,
A simple presence, born of day and light.
It seems to follow every step I make,
A silent friend that gives no sound or sign,
No breath it draws, no whispered word to take,
Just outline clear, a simple, dark design.
The glass divides our world, inside and out,
Yet on its face this fleeting form appears,
A painted twin, it does not fear or doubt,
It stays awhile, and then just disappears.
So when the sun begins to fade and fall,
The shadow leaves the glass, beyond recall.
trim fossil
mellow wind