The lamp that hangs from the ceiling
is made locally, one of a kind, and
it shines bright.
On the wall hangs its shadow, as shadows go
it is strong and has many details.
The shadow too has a shadow, a bit to the left,
this one is shifty pale, but one can still see
where it originated.
Alas, the shadow´s shadow too has
a shadow, so pale it hard to see its
ancestor was a lamp as it disappears into
the white wall and history.
A memory of - once upon a time -a dynasty,
until a new locally made lamp appears,
one that is not mass produced,
and has its own bright light.
Comments about this poem (Heredity by oskar hansen )
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