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before the sun rose, they rose,
soft-spoken to shadows so as not to stir them,
they let blood and would spit and sweat sometimes
when shade was too cruel and asked, respite
tree’s lamplight shadow,
big trunk, dangling limb
lay across asphalt —Matryoshkas,
nesting shadows taking in smaller others
as easily as big devours small
shadow peas in a shell game
ballooning unknown by
unknown, onionlike in equanimity,
in balance upon a fulcrum, resting
in a resolute equation:
known miniscule + unknown
immense but balanced,
which never changes all in all
by Jim Culleny
11/15/15
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Blink 