Wednesday, July 12, 2017

In Consideration of Dandelions

“My poetry of late has been rather flowery,” I said.
My shadow nodded.
“I mean, I almost wrote about dandelions. How
banal is that,” I asked.
My shadow shrugged.

“I want to write something of substance,
of meaning, filled with soulful revelations
and creative insight,” I said.
My shadow nodded emphatically.
“Okay then, here’s goes…,” I said.

My shadow sat motionless against the
wall. Slightly leaning forward, waiting,
“So… there’s these dandelions right…,” I said.
My Shadow threw his arms up in the air.

“Right, right. No freaking dandelions,” I said.
My shadow acquiesced with relish.
“How about sexy ladies? Should I write about
sexy ladies,” I asked.
A slow upward shrug from my shadow, palms up.

“Dear sexy ladies,” I said.
My shadow slapped himself in the forehead.
“What, you’re an art critic now,” I asked.
My shadow put his hands on his hips and
turned his head up toward the heavens.

“Fine. No sexy ladies or dandelions. Sheesh,” I said.
My shadow nodded.
“So what should I write about,” I asked.
My shadow curled his thumb and gestured
to himself.

“You? A shadow? What’s interesting about you,”
I asked.
My shadow froze for a long moment. I heard a foot
tapping somewhere.
“Fine. What’s on your mind?”

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