Flying Star

Paul regularly checks
that his shadow remains
attached to his body.

He is sick in a way
that he hides his face
not wishing to be recognized.

I mean at Flying Star
the cafe
where we meet

to discuss why some words
freeze our tongues
into cold silence.

He prays for trust
and a sharp eye
for all his human interactions.

Paul’s shadow
wandered off last Tuesday
but we found it before nightfall

among the bright purple
thistle-heads
up the arroyo in bear canyon.

copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney

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