Man In Silhouette

some days we all turn to silhouette:
negative space
in the shape of men,
of fathers, of brothers,
of traffic guards and fieldhands,
hollowed-out bankers,
nebulous thieves.
some days we all turn to silhouette:
defined by our lack of detail,
our absence of color, of
texture.
These days seems to come and go
a little more often as we get older,
these silhouette days, these
abstract, disorienting dawns,
the joy bled out by –
who knows? God’s Paintbrush,
or a vitamin deficiency,
or the burning of the world.

 

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