by Neil Chopra
The style of this poem is inspired by Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven”.
When we step, feet are digging, rocks we toss with our kicking
Over cliffs into the dripping water by the shore.
When the shadow steps unheard, along a path so unperturbed,
Content to walk and say no words, but listen to the roar.
When we learn, bending pages, ink outlining our impatience,
Readers follow frantic traces crumpled and so torn.
When the shadow softly reads, it leaves the text in state pristine
So the next themselves can glean from pages never worn.
When we mark, we plant a flag to remind (with subtle tact)
The next must dance around the stamp adorned upon the floor.
When the shadow leaves its mark, seen with keen eyes in the dark,
It gives the next a running start instead of just a chore.
When we drink, we have our fill from the lake not yet distilled,
Blind to the fact that it soon will deplete as a source.
When the shadow takes a sip from a never ending drip,
It notices that once dry lips are wet with no remorse.
When we decide what we require, slightest hurdles met with ire,
Quick to start a burning fire to nature’s very core.
When the shadow sees its needs, ever careful with its reach,
Never letting nature bleed for its necessary store:
Shadow’s sloth cannot breathe evermore.