The shadow of a past life lived
silhouetted against the clean starched fabric of where we stand in time now
gloats and taunts as if to say "here I am come and get me"
jerking back the sheet we find nothing and somehow interpret the emptiness as time ill spent
the shadow making however traumatic, sad, dysfunctional is just shadow now and my joy lay across the smooth soft delicate linen of the present that hangs upon the line whipping with the breeze