Shadows live everywhere
they are the moving shapes
of you ~
of me.
They hide in drawers
and streets with no way out.
Aren't they just beautiful?
They follow us~
watching all the while
from under the beams
of all the pretty houses.
When dusk comes they are there
they dance their shadowy dance
in the day
saying all the while
Come
November,
come
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Pretty misty stars