Shadow Puppets Poem by Kevin Patrick

It’s an old shoe strain game
done on the cheap
Point a flashlight on a wall
in a light starved room
raise your hands to the beam
fold them in any shape
And… Voilà! You have…
a menagerie of ghosts

Paint a rabbit here, or a swan there;
a dog with a functional tail
it’s all a matter of force perspective;
hands cloaked off as ringmasters fauna but when the lights are turned on It’s back to square one


You’re sitting there
all alone… playing with your fingers while cloak hands
grow old


You could be looking for a friend
Someone to spring you out from loneliness
And steer you into this world of light
Away from shadows, into sight and into mind