The Framed Silhouette. Poem by PAUL COLVIN

The sultry silhouette stands black against a single orange light
It’s early morning, still so dark, the remnants of the night
Black trees etched out against the sky, they creep across the dawn
All framed behind this pane of glass, this early winter’s morn.
Is she fully clothed I wonder, is she standing nude?
Is that her back, or maybe front, can’t tell from where I’m stood
The light is playing tricks with me, this single orange glow
Maybe I should look away, then maybe she will go.