The Shadow Thing
Me and my shadow,
Strolling down the avenue,
Me and my shadow,
Not a soul to tell our troubles to . . .
And when it’s twelve o’clock,
We climb the stair,
We never knock,
For nobody’s there . . .
Just me and my shadow,
All alone and feelin’ blue . . .
So far today, no shadow sightings to report. It’s only minus six, but the wind is bitter and the skies are grey. Here in this part of the country we are assured of at least 3 more months of winter, so what the groundhog does or doesn’t see is moot. Spring lasts for a couple of weeks in May. Summer is over in mid August. Winter starts in October and lasts for six months. Well, that’s how it looks to me in February anyway. Bleak. A step in the right direction from bleary January, but the long winter season still makes me feel completely weather beaten. I will try to recall this exact moment when we’re halfway through July and I’m perishing from the heat.
About
(Umbrella - by Existrance/deviant art)
This is where I come to talk to myself by dredging up an old photograph or a memory and beating it to death with my keyboard. One day all this blather will be treasured by my progeny. Deluded as that notion might be, it’s what keeps me here. Just to clarify things a little, no part of my past or present life was ever spent actually living on a sidewalk. Life in the fast lane would have been a big fat lie; life on a skinny railing high above the railroad tracks with an umbrella at dawn – damn. Didn’t think of that one fast enough. But it’s sometimes how life feels. Precariously tense, but insanely fun.
