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
Umflop 