Shadow Key

You prepared the motion
of the snowflakes that
drift beneath the shutters.

Entrancing mind-wheels in a doorbell moon;
attack-dog street side of
summertime.

The aftermath trickled into a
hourglass, hand-blown;
falling to the other side.

Your feet pushed off the dock,
waving a good luck,
never see you again good-bye;
but you know, there's a
string attached to every boat
that has docked ashore.

© 06-May-2011 Sonja J. Johnston for Todd Sloane