We Cast Pale Shadows
We cast pale shadows after death.
Not as before,
A black and changing silhouette
Etched on a sold surface
By the sun.
Or, diffused by friendly light
Within familiar rooms.
We become as sudden air across
A candle flame,
Ephemeral as a single breath,
Rare as rainbows on a
Cloudless day.
Disturbing none, but those who
Loved us, for so brief a time.
©James Rainsford 2011
To listen to me read this poem click play

