Written for Living Poetry where our host,
Bartholomew, asks us to write a poem
about shadows. Here’s my response.
They call his name before they see her face,
mistake her eyes for echoes of his own
as if she was a footnote, holding space
for someone else’s gift, out on loan.
She’s learned to speak in quieter tones,
to shrink before he enters any room,
to let him fill the air down to the bones
while she became a secondary bloom.
His light is real; she does not wish it dark….
But light, by nature, throws a shadow wide.
She has lived so very long without a spark
and learned to walk behind and not beside.
They say the shade is cool, an unassuming thing,
a place for tender roots to hold and life to grow.
But she is tired of watching him take wing;
She’s eager now to dance outside his shadow!
NAR©2026
This is “Shadow of a Man” by Lady Gaga ft. Michael Jackson
Everything on The Elephant’s Trunk was created by me, unless otherwise indicated. Thanks for your consideration. NAR©2017-present.
The Elephant's Trunk 