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The Shadow

The Shadow

It was fall, sickness
it was late.

The different tunes of
the colors made
the evening look dark.

Sweet smells
of plants on
the weat ground, sales
turning into soil.

Slow winds playing
among the trees,
touching the last
straw of grass,
the sleepy movements
of the lake.

The forest main road
was lightened by lamps
so that people could
walk in the dark.

But in this evening
she was alone.

Although she knew
the life of the forest,
she could not see
nor hear anything.

Only the feeling of the air.
The slow smell of the fall.
The softness of the darkness.
The stones under her feet.

The air was wet with
water drops,
still breathing the last rain.

And the sweat running
down her face
become a steam of
salt water.

Running down the hill
she suddenly stopped,

Standing in front of her,
on the side of the road,
was a tree.

Surrrounded by light,
from the lamp posts
behind.

Stripes through the light,
triangles and squares,
yellow and white,
dark blue and
green,
grey
and
black.

It was
the most
beautiful glory
she had ever seen.

After a while she
looked down on the ground.

There was the shadow of the tree.

She rested in the shadow.

Slowly breathing,

First then she saw her own,
as a black print
in the grey shadow of the tree.

She thought of running home,
but started to walk instead.
Suddenly wanting to
touch the tree.

As she lifted her hand,
she saw that it was not one tree.
It was three trees between her and the lamp.

They were all old, strong and
high
birch trees.
Standing beside each other.

Her hand felt the
wet moss
on the hard skin of
the trees.
She touched all three
of them,
one by one.

The breathing between them.

Thanking.

Inger (Boabom Norway)

(photographs by Yemado)