Shadow on the wall.

 

(Dedicated to Scott)

He left a shadow on the wall,

A shape of light withheld,

Edges curved to form the appearance

of a man,

a boy,

maybe even a soul.

He came looking for life,

But the walls he faced were as high

As the ones encasing him were thick.

Crying for help,

The rescuers fatigued,

His age-old struggle had taken its toll.

Years ago, he ran through the woods,

Placing fireflies in jars,

Sleeping under the stars,

Resting in peace.

The world kept turning, and he kept running,

Trying to put time in his jar

Until his body was found under the stars

Resting in peace.

All that’s left is the shadow,

a whispered hint

Of his passing through.

It speaks of a man,

A shape and size,

Edges only,

Leaving us to guess

What was within.