Shadows Poem by Shalyn Stachmus

And they just keep on going.
Keep driving by.
You know you miss me
but your whiskey stink
can make you shy.
Shy away from any
possibility that you could be
taught. Or teach yourself.
I miss you, too.
We made it.
We all made it through
grumpy signs and teasing calendars
that maybe these things would end.
And yet here we are,
never knowing that we'd feel it the next day.
We actors are so cunning.
To make up the script as we go along.
Is that so wrong?
Another teasing end to play
and freedom is just another word on this page.
Channelling deep insights from ghosts
of greatness,
long gone.
Where have they gone?
They are just shadows in our mindless
script of change.
And so we continue on,
we'll forge on as we were taught:
To never give up.
And just like blank walls never think
that there will ever be another
shadow to rest on its cool surface,
so too do we never think
about ever giving up. Ever.