On Shadows (Night Walk)

April 1, 2015 By: Christopher Russell
My boot heels clip and scrape the faded pavement, The sounds softly echoing in the quiet street. Head bowed, hands jammed in pockets, I think over things, the current state of affairs; The pitch in the war and so on.
I think of Allen and his reflections on partial shadows And the market as I too make my way there. This night, my shadows now, are serene, drugged. The balmy air ensconces time as if in a bubble. The leaves on the trees tremble ever so silently. I look at their dark twins on the sidewalk And try to detect the barrier, The axis between the two, The real and the other.
Time feels casual, not like gravity and its specificity. I think of Newton’s third law as I glance To a porch and the glow of a cigarette end. I see boots shuffle back into darkness as I pass. The body in the depths, reclining. I nod anyway and think that although the orbits are far The sun reigns it all in until the shadows are partial no more.
Contributor's Note: Christopher Russell will be graduating from SSU at the end of the semester.