Undressing Shadows Poem by Ursula Tillmann

Tired of waking
I long for the night
Undressing Shadows
Folding their gowns.

Longing for empty malls
with small servings
on tiny plates.

For minds who keep
silent when winds
orchestrate tales.

I long for weeping willows
which don't cry when
branches shed leaves.

And green meadows
in blossom idling time -
before ours runs out.

I long for fresh bread
without watching games
at the Coliseum.

And cool spring water
splashing my face to wake
what's left of the day.