My Shadow   It happened again — my outline projected on the path ahead. I turned to see what could be the cause — of course I expected   the sun, but it had set and the sky was darkening and the stars were just flecks of light — useless. My shadow doesn’t like   to be studied, or understood — to be glimpsed sometimes, that’s all it will allow. My shadow whispers, You’re the lock. I’m the key.     © Michael Fleming Brattleboro, Vermont November 2021