I like the shadows,

I find the solitude it offers to be at times

a comfort

from the glare of the sun that burns away

at the fog that envelops and creeps

stealthy into the lungs and grips the throat

with an icy fingerless grip…

I like the shadows

for from there I can whisper anarchy,

I can speak softly the words of revolution

and in my head these words make sense

the hint of paragraphs and passages yet to come…

the shadows hold the key to the stories