Shadows... Poem by Mark Heathcote

If I am only to shadow the days
Your sunshine left me
I do so not only under moonlight;
I do so daily. Day and night and incrementally
In the twilight, steps in between walking alone
In sorrow that extends further than any shadow;
its width is an ocean in search of you at all lengths.
Its depth is deeper than any grave or separation
Can -be tolerated. And yet I cannot bear the pain
Of shadowless sunshine beside me ever again.
It is, a loathsome feeling to be in love with shadows,
Especially when they've taken their leave of you.
And you of them.

~or~

If I am only to shadow the days
Your sunshine left me; I do so now
Under moonlight with a whitish grey brow
I do daily in a hopeless malaise.

Ah, day and night, and incrementally
In those twilight, steps in between walking
Alone in sorrow that extends longing
Further than shadows fundamentally:

Its width is an ocean in search of you.
At all lengths. Its depth—deeper than any
Grave or separation can hitherto
Ah, the loneliness, the ignominy—

Of losing you, I cannot bear the pain.
Of shadowless sunshine beside me ever
Again. It is a loathsome endeavour.
It's vile to be in love—tragedienne.

Ah, with shadows, especially when they've
taken their leave of you. And you of them
Who'd have thought I'd be left here to condemn
to contrive another way to survive?