The sun bleaches the page,
Framing my shadow.
I’m the obstacle,
Creating a momentary record of my presence.
Existing here with the sun on my back while I write these very words,
But I am not the only one here.
This sense of now evolves;
Dissolving in time,
Disappearing as the sun journeys on.
Until then I’ll sit here
Holding the sun, soaking in its heat
Back through to front.
A collision of light and matter;
And all to create a single shadow.
It’s still there, seemingly insignificant company.
Part of it creeps onto the page,
But now as I look to my left it’s there too.
My shadow rests on the seat beside me.
And yet, I can’t quite see far enough
To know where it reattaches itself to me.
Then, I notice a slight shiver,
My back is turning cold.