“Lengthening Shadows” Post #14: “Shadows” by Sally Silvennoinen

SALLY SILVENNOINEN

Shadows

We stare in silence at the oak tree stretching, and elongated shadows are cast by the full moon.

—

 

“Lengthening Shadows” Post #13: “House Spirits” by Sally Silvennoinen

SALLY SILVENNOINEN

House Spirits

House spirits are restless tonight. They are wandering around in the shadows of my room. I get out of bed, walk downstairs and step out into the chilly dark night. These spirits slide out the door with me. We settle together on the bench on the porch.
Who are these spirits? Echos of memories, unfulfilled dreams and/or fleeting thoughts?
It gets cold and it's time to go back indoors. A few Spirits have found their way home. They squeeze inside with us befire the screen door slams shut.
The eastern sky begins its rise for a new day. I lie back down in my room. A soft breeze brushes across my face carrying an earthy scent. I feel the presence of spirits in my room. They are content.

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“Lengthening Shadows” Post #12: Three Poems by Diane M. Laboda

DIANE M. LABODA

Edges

I am living a life on the edge,
on the edge of everything—life,
sanity, grief—always grief.

The edges are slippery. Holding on
is tenuous at best. Letting go 
of you is unthinkable every day.

Yet, I know I have to let go of
so many things—people, friends,
my lover, perhaps a brother in the ICU.

This is what the living do. They let go
of kisses, of letters, of long walks
through the woods, of the everyday.

Today the everyday has very sharp edges.
It’s hard to approach my recent cancer 
diagnosis without wondering

how to let go of a lifetime of days
I know I’ll never see, how to let go 
of vigor and embrace fatigue and less-ness.

I am living on an edge that keeps
moving back and forth along an
uncertain continuum—

the one that says “live” on one end
and “die” on the other, that used to
seem so far away in shadows, but no longer.

I know that not every long year belongs
to me alone, not every fractured day,
only what drops in from the universe

is mine for now, if I recognize it,
see it for what it is, like this poem.
Otherwise, it will slip through
my fingers and be gone, spilled
over the edge of today, landing hard, perhaps,
on the edge of tomorrow.


---


Prayer

A mist clings in wisps to the fence line. 
One large oak stands sentinel as if permission 
to enter the inadmissible is needed.
It looks from outside the tree line
to be frightening, foreboding, a singular 
canopy, dark and unfamiliar.

As I enter, I can see the oak
captures each ray of light available,
magnifies it, sparkles it through every leaf.
Every sound, every movement, 
every moment is symbolic, multi-layered.

It is as if the world is kept out on purpose.
It keeps no art, no altar, no ornaments,
no light or flame. Sound bounces off 
the trunk and echoes until it fades away.
What’s left is the solemn, simple
presence of shadows.

A soft rustling, mesmerizing
and hypnotic, swoops and swirls on the air
and enters me, embraces me.
Contentment washes over me and I feel 
welcomed.

I wait, I wait, but what for?
Oak sighs an invitation to reinvent
myself, to leave the past behind.
Its glowing silhouette is filled with
shifting molecules. The air is fresh and feels 
as though I’m breathing in a prayer.


---


Whispers and Shadows

I live between layers of whispers 
and shadows, stuck in a 
nether land of what’s not said
and what’s not heard.

What’s not said can brim a bushel
with angst and longing.
What’s not heard floats by on 
a wing and a prayer.

The question of which layer comes first 
is like asking about the chicken or the egg.
Do we whisper in the shadows? Or
do the shades mute our voices, steal
our thoughts?

Some days start out like any other,
but degrade into talking-to-the-hand.
Clouds gather, breezes chill, tongues
tie mid-word, curiosities abound, thoughts
pool on the floor.

Other days begin in a cloud, stricken
by silence, darkened to full gray by noon.
Walls close in, emotions shutter, quarrelling
under their breath and punching 
each other in the gut.

Healing comes slowly, layer-by-layer—
whispers, shadows, whispers, shadows—
no words, silence, darkness, unease.
It leaves me wanting more, fearing less,
expecting different from each precious day.

I know no other way forward
through silence, through darkness, 
but to put one foot ahead of the other and listen 
for the sound of footsteps. And to have faith
that tomorrow the sun will shine,
somewhere.


---


 

“Lengthening Shadows” Post #11: “Shadows of Dark Lightning” by Ayowole Oladeji

AYOWOLE OLADEJI

Shadows of Dark Lightning

Doomsday past 12 midnight the sky darkens pitch black over the clouds 
Sounds of the creeping doors smashing up and down windows begin to shatter
Then at that moment crawling through dark light heading towards you a black cat 

Then your heart begins to pound like a rolling engine vroom vroom 
That moment the whole light darkens the creepy castle 
You begin to cry please help I'm stuck in the basement 

But no one hears you then so as you begin to walk downstairs  
As you begin to get closer to the door you see a shadow 
You sprint back upstairs so you hide under the bed 
As the door opens you then see in the reflection 
With terror in your eyes, you see Freddie Kruger 
From nightmare on elm street you wake up seeing it was just a dream.

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“Lengthening Shadows” Post #10: “Foraging for Beauty”: Two Photographs by Amy Higgins and Deb Hill

AMY HIGGINS and DEB HILL

Foraging for Beauty

 

“Lengthening Shadows” Post #9: “Across the Room” by Mary Oches

MARY OCHES

Across the Room

The last time I stared across the room
	was the first time you tried to hide
		your face from my gaze.

Your eyes became clouded with doubt,
	your mouth perceptively trembled,
		and my soul became joyless.

What chilling thoughts enveloped your mind,
	what hidden fears scratched and
		clawed vainly at the surface?

What words unspoken screamed to be heard,
	Asking when the lengthening shadow
		Of our love would descend?

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“Lengthening Shadows” Post #8: “The Pumpkin Man” by Sophia McShane

SOPHIA MCSHANE

The Pumpkin Man

You won't catch him easily; a task that can't be done effortlessly.  

You must wait until the second Friday of October, when the moon is high and full, peaking over the burnt-orange trees, with the forest creatures having fallen into a quiet lull.  

Leave behind all belongings and sentimental things.  Arrive wearing only your pajamas and both tightly tied shoestrings.  

Make sure you have old socks filled in a sizable sack, so it's heavy enough that it drags along the trail behind your back.  

Be certain they're all left socks, and ones you don't like, because you won't see them again after tonight.  Double-check you haven't mixed in any rights in your sack, or else he won't be quickly forgiving.  

When the moon is at her highest, shining light through the dark, make your way to the middle of the farm.  Put your back to the stiff scarecrow with your face turned to the dark velvet tree line.

He will come at exactly 3 o’clock, so do not be late because he leaves at 3, o 3 and never leaves a trace.  

When he does finally arrive, make sure you are fast.  Swiftly dump out the socks and stand back.

He’ll inspect them carefully, with high precision, making sure they're to his liking since this is serious business.  

When he’s all hunched over with his gaunt back curled like a cat's, you must act quickly.  

This is your only chance to seize him, so take the sack you brought without him seeing and quickly snatch him up without missing.  

Snag his orange pumpkin head first into your bag, then shimmy him down into the bottom.  

He might shake around, and wiggle, or yell, but try your best to ignore his requests to let him out. So if you have followed my plan, then you will have now just caught The Pumpkin Man.  You can receive candy whenever you request it, or treats of any kind.  But be careful of his tricks because he his witty; he will try to out sly you with ruses to escape you.  

Until then, enjoy your earned treats and have a happy Halloween!

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“Lengthening Shadows” Post #7: “Golden-Headed Grasses” by Tom Zimmerman

TOM ZIMMERMAN

Golden-Headed Grasses

I make my way, the meadow path lined high
with golden-headed grasses Trey and I
trot by, the sun obscured by clouds, dusk’s bruise
still new.   //   I parked the car back at the church
but Trey’s nose points toward home through still-green muddy
woods too cool for bugs, southeast by south
we tromp.   //   So soon the nights when bright Orion
swings around the west side of the house
while I hunt words and beats to fret the silken
strings to leave a record we were here.   
//   I simmer casarecce twisted as 
my DNA, it’s Dad’s old pasta pot   
named Thumper, beer in front of me, thank god,
still need to brown up last night’s pallid chicken,
much like me last summer at the beach.

---

“Lengthening Shadows” Post #6: “Oh, But How I Hate Fall” by Sophia McShane

SOPHIA MCSHANE

Oh, But How I Hate Fall 

It is not the gentle breeze carrying colored leaves that greets me at the beginning of this season, 

Oh, but instead, an overwhelming gust of melancholy, followed by a depression that carries me into winter.  

The sugary sweet candies do not distract me, but instead plant under my tongue a feeling of looming dread, for the piercing cold season to come ahead.  

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“Lengthening Shadows” Post #5: Two Poems by Wanda Kay Sanders

WANDA KAY SANDERS

The Hunt 

It is the shadow of the moon against the sun 
A starless night hidden behind clouds 

Only a slight wind blowing 
Dry air across the desert land 

We hear the collective howl of wolves 
As they hunt in the darkness 

The thirst for blood like that of a man at war 
A man armed with bayonet and machine gun 

Watching for the slightest move of the enemy 
His prey on two legs instead of four 

Hiding behind the shadowy rock. 
Wait and wait some more 

Prepare for combat 
Only one will survive until dawn 

---


Formation

It starts in the bowels of the Earth 
First a lump of coal – hot pulsing, burning with fire 
It transcends the shadow darkness 
And bursts forth a brilliant diamond 
We hold this light in our hands 
Clutching carefully what we’ve found
In the light of the sun we shine 
No longer shadows hidden 
But spirits riding on the clouds in the sky 
Breath of God spreading far and wide
Reflects the prism's rainbow 
Facets of our journey first below 
Then above then below then above 
Rise up up from the depths 
Send us out into the Heavens 
Diamonds in the wind 
Sparkle shine soar 
Ever reaching for the stars 
Spreading to the planets beyond 

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