Shadow

This poem is dedicated to my dreams, which always seem to find their way back to me when I am awake.

a dream is but a shadow, a living part

always between the conscience

and lurking in the heart

it pulses through the veins

from the blood

and to the brain 

and when we sleep,

we tend to dream

but sometimes shadows 

aren't all they seem

Author's Note

[photo found on flickr.com: Thomas Leuthard "Two Shadows"]