When it grows late
the shadow doesn't disappear
But slowly turns
the color of night.
If it oversleeps,
the structure built
To hide that in the
town’s heart
There is a shadow
not cast by anything
Calls to it
urgently. It wakes gradually,
Stretching itself,
pretending
Its size has something
to do with the sun
Just shrugging
itself above the horizon.
When people walk on
it their shadows
Cling desperately
to their backs,
Climbing down
blocks away or sometimes
Never climbing down
at all.
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