Shadows Poem by Brian Taylor

We peer into the shadows
where yesterday’s sunlight glows,
trying to capture and hold
yesterday’s sunlit gold.

We peer into tomorrow
to predict and plot
where that sun will likely go
(but where, perhaps, it will not) .

Today’s sunshine still blazes
its disc ever overhead.
Past and future are autumn hazes
that drift through the land of the Dead.

The land of the Dead.
Dead.

Remember the Light;
the Light
that shines
in the darkness.